


The Dark Corners of the Earth

by Useful_Oxymoron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Airships, Canon Compliant, Diplomacy, Dragons, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Family, Horror, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Plot With Smut, Post-War, Psychological Trauma, War, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 220,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useful_Oxymoron/pseuds/Useful_Oxymoron
Summary: The war was supposed to end with the fall of Voldemort. Instead, it not only kept going but steadily escalated into a full-scale wizarding world war as two people who were thought to be dead pit their armies against each other. Now Hermione is desperately trying to find a way to save the wizarding world from itself… and from that which lies among the dark corners of the Earth.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 112
Kudos: 323





	1. Burning Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> This story was originally written in 2015 and still one of the works I am the most proud of. I've decided to bring this over to Ao3 as well and, as of the moment of this writing (27-02-20) will bring over one chapter a day so I can do a grammar/spelling sweep while doing so.
> 
> Here's the obligatory author's introduction to the story so you have an idea what you're getting into.
> 
> First of all, this story follows the events of canon and starts right after the Battle of Hogwarts. As such, the only part of canon it ignores is the epilogue. Of course, Cursed Child wasn't written in 2015, so it ignores this too for obvious reasons.
> 
> Secondly, though readers of my first Bellamione story Murder Most Horrid (Still on FF.net, and will eventually be brought over to AO3) know there were plenty of disturbing scenes, this particular story has strong Lovecraftian influences. As such, it ups the ante on disturbing scenes. I'd dare to say my new story has truly earned its M-rating. It's not all doom and gloom, though. At its core, it's a Bellamione romance, after all.
> 
> Thirdly, the grand majority of locations (and some events) mentioned in the story are either real locations, or real in the sense that they exist in a mythology. This is to give the story more of an authentic note.
> 
> Fourthly, for me the canon of films and books have pretty much blended together at this point. I'll never see Bellatrix with any other face than the beautiful Helena Bonham Carter, for example. This story references both canons, so I suppose that could be jarring for some readers. Look at it this way; it's sort of hard to come back from the dead when you've been obliterated.
> 
> Still here? In that case, I hope you will enjoy the story.

" _The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age."_

\- H.P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu (1926)

* * *

**Location=∞. T=zero.**

In Its endless slumber, It stirred.

The Others feared It. Feared Its power so much that they tricked It and trapped It by binding It to this forsaken rock in the middle of a meaningless backwater galaxy far away from anything even remotely interesting.

But It had the patience of stone and the will of stars.

It waited until the rock cooled and the planet started to take shape. It waited until oceans formed and gave existence to simple life. It waited until that simple life evolved to a point that it was just intelligent enough for Its purpose.

For the first time in billions of years, It saw Its chance for freedom.

* * *

**12th of October 1997 – Somerset, UK – Forest of Exmoor**

There was something about Somerset which stirred a chord in Hermione Granger. Years ago, when she'd been but a slip of a girl, her parents had taken her camping in a forest near the coast. She loved running down to the beach to collect seashells; she used to take them back to the tent and match them to pictures in her book to catalog her findings. Good memories. She'd been so sad when it was time to return home after their vacation had ended and hoped that she would be able to return to Somerset one day.

And here she was. Back in Somerset, but it was not how she had hoped it would be. Rather than looking for more seashells, she was sneaking around in the middle of the night in a very creepy forest looking for the hovel of a hermit. At least she had her two best friends with her.

The sounds of the night were all around her as Ron turned to her.

"Blimey," he whispered. "We've been out here for ages. Are you sure it's out here?"

"Positive," Hermione whispered back. They were looking for the hovel of Ozymandius Oliphant, a famed collector of writing on dark arts and evil magics best forgotten. If anyone were to have information on tracking horcruxes, it would be him.

"Will he help us?" Ron asked.

"Doubtful," said Hermione. "The story goes that he became disillusioned with the wizarding world and humanity as a whole and vowed never to be seen by anyone ever again. He was supposedly so much of a nutter that they were happy to see him go for the most part. It's been rumored that too much knowledge about the dark arts made him go stark raving mad."

Ron snorted. "And we're just going to knock on his door, introduce ourselves and say 'Hi, we're looking for a madwizard's horcruxes. Care to help?'."

"No," said Harry after looking over his shoulder. "We're not going to ask for help at all."

The trio of friends ventured deeper into the forest, following their wands as they had tuned into a faint source of magic in the distance. Finally, they did manage to find it. Hidden in a dense grove of trees, overgrown with weeds was a small stone shack about the size of Hagrid's hut back at Hogwarts. A moldy wooden door was covered with moss. No windows. No lights.

The three of them squatted down behind a fallen tree and studied it from a distance. "Right," said Harry with a wry grin. "This isn't creepy at all."

"Could have fooled me," replied Ron.

Hermione squinted her eyes, trying to see better in the darkness. There was something distinctly ominous about this shack and seeing the state of it, she wondered if Oliphant was even still alive. Then again, if he was dead, it would be far easier to ransack his library. It was a grim and morbid thought.

After sharing a nod, the three of them shared a nod and silently crept towards the shack until they reached the door. Harry tapped his wand on the lock and whispered a spell to open the door. And open it did. The trio offered each other an encouraging smile before stepping into the pitch-dark portal leading into the shack.

Inside, and not to their surprise, they found the shack to be far larger than what its outside walls would be able to hold. Secondly, this place didn't seem to have been lived in; cobwebs were abound, candles were unlit and the dank musty smell of rot hung in the air. The place itself was as quiet as a grave, but one thing made Hermione feel right at home; there were shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, a massive collection of works long thought lost. Oh, if only she would have the time to fully study this library.

She made a mental note to come back here when this whole mess with Voldemort was over; Hermione would salvage as much knowledge as she could. Until then, the books were safe here. Nobody knew about this place and those who did would not come looking.

"Right, nobody's home," said Harry while lighting a few candles. "What are we looking for?"

"Anything about horcruxes or soul-rending," Hermione said. "Let's bring anything that looks interesting over to that table over there and we can have a look."

The trio spread out, each holding a candle. Hermione held it out in front of her while she skimmed the titles of the books. Merlin, this was veritable treasure trove. She could easily spend years in here studying all the many books she could see. Unfortunately, however, Oliphant either didn't believe in cataloging or had his own system which was so incomprehensible that he just as well might have piled them up randomly. Finding anything was going to take a while.

Then, she noticed something off. There was a book located in an alcove on a pedestal. Odd thing was that it was the only book in said alcove. Where other alcoves and bookstacks were filled to the brim with paper, this particular work had a place of honor all for itself.

This book had to be important or it would not have been given such a special place, so Hermione decided to investigate. The book itself looked to be large, heavy and very old. The book was bound in a type of leather Hermione didn't recognize. However, she did recognize the symbol etched into the leather; a scaly serpent eating its own tail.

"Oroborous," Hermione whispered into the darkness. For some reason, speaking that word caused chills to run down her spine.

The young witch took a step forward, slowly approaching the precious book. What secrets could it hold? If a venerable sage like Oliphant whom had dedicated his life to seeking out lost knowledge treated this particular book as special, it would be valuable indeed.

Hermione held a breath as her fingers could almost touch the book. It was like... approaching a sleeping dragon. Books like these had a life of their own and books about dark magics could be as malevolent as Voldemort himself. She had to be careful.

As soon as her fingers brushed the leather, a faint red glow emanated from the book. Before Hermione knew what was going on, magical energy shot up the length of her arm. For a split second, she felt a terrible headache, as if someone was stabbing repeatedly into her brain with a red-hot knitting needle. She grunted and slunk against the wall for a moment to try to regain her composure. Hermione set down the candle on one of the books and rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened.

She realized she was not alone when suddenly a gnarled hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her by the wrist in a vice-like grip. Instinctively, Hermione jerked backwards, forcing her attacker to step into the light.

"YOU!" snarled an ancient gravely voice, reminding Hermione of her chain-smoking great-uncle. "I knew you would come."

"Let me go!" Hermione pleaded as she tried to jerk out of the ancient man's grip.

"I see... I see... I don't want to see, but I still see..." the old man wheezed, a maniacal grin crossing his weathered and winkled features. "I saw the rise of the twisted snake, the one with his soul shattered into eight pieces. But he is nothing compared to the coming storm..."

"RON!" Hermione shouted. "HARRY!"

"Two puppets, stolen from death's grasp," the old man rasped. "Death. Chaos. It will come. Madness itself will come for us all! You, girl, are the catalyst. You are the one who will drive _her_ to madness and despair!"

"Hermione!" Harry came running into the library with wand in hand, as did Ron.

"Oi, let her go, mate!" Ron threatened. "Two against one here."

The old wizard wasn't even remotely impressed. Still holding on to Hermione, he stepped forward, using his free hand to throw back his hood. When Hermione saw what was underneath it, she screamed in horror.

He was looking right at her right now, though 'looking' would be a misnomer. Both his eyes were gone, leaving only the empty sockets. Judging from the scarring, the man had removed his own eyes rather violently. Rotten teeth showed when the man grinned. What was most terrifying of all, however, was that he was 'looking' directly at her with those terrible black empty sockets. It was as if he was peering right into her soul. Hermione started pulling even harder, now increasingly desperate to get away from this obviously deranged man.

"I thought taking away my eyes would finally stop me from seeing. But I still see. I STILL SEE YOUR ACCURSED FACE, GIRL!"

Finally, Hermione managed to pull herself loose. The girl backpedaled, tripped and fell to the ground. With the help of Harry and Ron, she scrambled to her feet and the three of them made a run for the door.

They burst into the forest and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Behind them, the door slammed open and the man yelled after them. "Mark my words, vile girl! You will be the one who will end this world! YOU WILL BE THE ONE TO DOOM US ALL, HERMIONE GRANGER!"

The trio never looked back, but just ran and ran and ran until they could run no longer. Having put plenty of distance between them and the shack containing the crazy old wizard, the three let themselves fall to the forest floor. They lay here panting and coughing, trying to makes sense of what had just happened.

"Right," Ron wheezed. "That was a complete waste of time."

"Sorry," Hermione replied apologetically.

"Not your fault," said Ron. "Barmy old bugger, right?"

"It only goes to show," said Hermione, laughing slightly to try to lighten the mood. "Divination is still a whole lot of nonsense."

"Yeah," Ron laughed. "You? End the world? How'd you manage that? Are you going to drop it down the stairs?"

The absurdity of that statement reminded Hermione why she liked Ron so much. Despite the frightening situation she'd been in, she laughed in spite of herself. However, when Harry chose to speak up, the words he said made her blood run cold.

"But Hermione," Harry started. "How'd he know your name?"

* * *

 **2** **nd** **of May 1998 – Hogwarts - Battle of Hogwarts**

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" growled the fat house-witch as she stepped forward in a pathetic attempt to look menacing. Bellatrix certainly wasn't impressed. In fact, that was an understatement. She was _insulted._ Did this fat house-witch actually think she could stand up to _her_?! She was the Dark Lord's Chosen! The gall!

Bellatrix let out an mocking cackle while raised her wand to easily block some of the blood-traitor's attacks. All around her, the battle was still going strongly. Those Death Eaters still standing, the most loyal of all, stood for her Lord as she did. They would win this day, it was inevitable. When Potter would lie dead at her feet... truly dead this time, her Lord's reign could finally begin.

Before the fat house-witch stepped in, she had been dueling three young witches at once without breaking a sweat. Pathetic, really. What were they teaching kids these days? In retrospect, she considered she should have tossed a killing curse at the brown-haired mudblood; she'd be doing the girl a favor, really, as she would certainly suffer under her Lord's rule. Let it not be said that Bellatrix Lestrange could not be merciful.

Bellatrix let out another mocking cackle as she pressed the attack. All around her, magic was flying back and forth. Oh, she would toy with the Weasley woman a bit longer, no need to end this quickly and miss out on all the fun. She threw her head back and tossed her hair about while continuing to mock the woman.

The fat woman's magic blasted against her defenses. Though she deflected them easily, she had to admit to being somewhat impressed by the intensity of her attacks. Perhaps she could make this duel even more fun. A doozy of a taunt was just waiting to be let out. "What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" the dark witch grinned. "When mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Oh, it was as below the belt as it got, but the look on the fat woman's face was priceless.

"You.. will... never... touch... our... children... again!"

To her credit, the now enraged fat house-witch fought back with renewed vigor. A worthy challenge after all. How unexpected! The dark witch was planning to finish her off in a most vainglorious fashion. She twirled her wand and let out another cackle. She knew just the spell for the job.

As it turned out, that was a mistake. The fat house-witch blasted through her defenses and Bellatrix found herself unable to move. She was still frantically trying to break free when she felt something enter her chest. Her eyes grew wide as she as she started to fall backwards; it was as if a fist was clenching around her heart, squeezing tightly. With sheer force of mind, she willed her heart to keep beating. As soon as she'd shrugged this off, she'd tear the fat house-witch into strips of bloodied flesh!

Keep beating!

_This is just a set-back!_

Keep breathing!

_I'll tear you apart! I'll tear all of you apart!_

Keep...

Ke...

K...

Darkness.

Odd. What spell had been cast here? Surely, that fat house-witch couldn't have dreamed up a spell Bellatrix hadn't known about. Perhaps it was simply a diversionary tactic, a spell which caused her vision to darken. Yes, that had to be it.

She still squeezed her eyes shut when she heard no more sounds of battle around her. What was going on? Was the fat house-witch still even there? She felt... no more of the pain, nor the fatigue. In fact, she felt... oddly tranquil.

Bellatrix opened her eyes and hissed in dismay when she was met with a massive sea of white light. The dark witch was startled for a moment, sitting up too quickly from the warm ground she had been lying on. This... this wasn't Hogwarts. Where the hell was she?

She rubbed the side of her face and slowly stood up to let her eyes adjust to the brightness. Bellatrix looked around as she saw shapes forming from the very whiteness itself. This... this was the old mansion! She was standing in the rear garden of her old family home. How was this possible?

Bellatrix slowly strolled through the facsimile of her old garden. Memories of times long passed assaulted her mind. She regarded the patio where she used to watch the stars at night with her father when she was a little girl. The memory of her father pointing out the star she was named after came to her as if it had happened yesterday. He had taken her on his shoulders and carried her through the yard while she'd giggled happily.

The dark witch let the memory float away when she passed the play area where she used to have fun with her sisters, the large lawn where she used to set up an obstacle course for broom flying. Fun times. There was that time Andromeda had fallen off her broom and cried; Bellatrix had held her while Cissy ran off to find mother. Sometimes, the three of them used to sneak out of the house after midnight and went into the small playhouse at the other side of the rear garden. They'd sit huddled under a big blanket with her holding a lumosed wand while they told each other scary stories. Good times. Andie had been surprisingly proficient coming up with morbid tales.

Bellatrix closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. ' _Where did it all go wrong?'_

There were more immediate concerns than reliving childhood memories, though. Such as figured out how all of this was even possible. How could she be here? The mansion was no longer hers and as far as she knew it no longer even existed.

Then it hit her. She died. The fat house-witched had killed her. The Weasley woman had actually pulled it off! Still, shouldn't she be more upset about it? For some reason she was... just not upset.

Peace. For the first time since decades she felt completely at peace. Such an odd feeling, but a good one. She had forgotten what it felt like. Her only regret was that she had had to die for it.

However, with peace came clarity. Terrifying clarity. She no longer had the cloak of insanity to protect herself. All her mistakes, her faults, her desires were mercilessly laid bare.

Memories of her later life came flowing back. Falling in with the Death Eaters. Being married to a useless layabout of man who was unworthy of her. Torturing two people into insanity. Fourteen terrible years of Azkaban with dementors destroying her mind bit by bit. Loving a man who spurned her at every occasion and her being too blind to see it. How she had made the sisters she had loved so much suffer at her own hands.

So much time lost. So much misery. And for what? At the end of her life, she had nothing to show for all she had done. What had been the point? Had there even been a point?

All these years, she had never allowed herself to feel the pain, but now it hit her all at once. Bellatrix cupped her head in her hands and wept quietly. For time lost. For past mistakes. For herself. For the pointlessness of it all. She couldn't even bring herself to hate the fat house-witch for ending her tormented existence.

Bellatrix knew quite well that nobody would mourn her. Perhaps that was for the best.

She sat on the bench she had shared with her father so long ago and wept until there were no more tears to weep. Bellatrix merely sat there numbly, an eternity to be alone with her thoughts. When she was still alive, she'd been so sure of everything. But now? There no longer were any certainties.

With her cheeks still wet from tears, Bellatrix took a deep breath and stood up. It was time to move on. She'd never been afraid of death like her Lord had been and though she had no idea what would await her in the afterlife, she would take the leap of faith and meet her fate with her head held high, like a true Black.

That dignity, perhaps, was the only thing she had left.

As she was searching for the way to move on, she saw something stirring from underneath one of the bushes in the garden. Carefully, she decided to investigate and crept towards the strange form underneath it. When she finally got a good look at the thing, she gasped and took a step back.

"My... my lord?" Bellatrix whispered. In front of her lay a stunted and bloodied mockery of what once had been Voldemort. It seemed to be in pain and unaware of her presence. For the second time, Bellatrix had to go through an world-shattering revelation. This was the man she followed, respected and revered? This was the man she had given her love and devotion to? Endured fourteen years of Azkaban for his pathetic creature? This... this bloody _thing_ whimpering on the ground?!

Part of her wanted to be insane again so she wouldn't have to face this, but now that she could think clearly, see beyond her own madness, she finally understood. Her entire life had be a lie. When she had been young, she had gone to every single one of his rallies and sat in the front row, wide-eyed and lapping up every word which came out of his mouth like warm honey. And when he'd noticed her, when he'd recognized her talent... there was no feeling in the world which could compare to it. Receiving her dark mark had been one of the proudest moments in her life. But now?

Peace gave way to anger; she balled her fists and narrowed her eyes, pacing back and forth while getting the urge to kick the abomination in front of her repeatedly until the need to cry for her lost life once again overcame her. There was nothing left for her here. At least she would be able to move on and find some measure of peace while that... abomination... she once lovingly called her lord would be stuck here until the end of time. It soothed her somewhat.

Suddenly, she became aware that she was no longer the only person in this place. There was... something else her with her. At first she thought it was Voldemort's soul becoming aware, but she could see that it was still as docile as it had been since she first laid eyes upon it.

Then, it happened. Some sort of elongated, tentacle-like shape stretched over her shoulder from behind her and violently slapped the shattered soul of Voldemort away. It flew off into the distance of this endless limbo and she could no longer see it.

Terror gripped her by the throat when the appendage retracted back over her shoulder mere inches away from her head. Her lip trembled when the tip of the appendage grazed her cheek.

Something... _bad_... was right behind her. It bathed the formerly white depiction of her old mansion in an eerily sick green light, casting shadows which turned the soothing area into a twisted mockery of itself.

In front of her, still stark white, was the way out. Shaped like the old garden gate, it was her way to move on and escape the thing that was behind her. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run towards it, to escape whatever it was she now shared this limbo with. It meant her harm. She felt it. But, she was Bellatrix Black. And she could not resist to turn around to face whatever it was. Even in death, she still had her pride.

Merlin, how she wished that she hadn't.

Impossible geometric shapes blending into each other, shapes of light, smell, color that were so alien it made her want to claw her own eyes out to stop the assault on her senses. A cacophony of sounds washed over her while Bellatrix writhed on the ground in agony. One tone stood out, and she focused on it to try to escape the sensory overload... a tone she eventually recognized as her own terrified screams for mercy. If she wasn't already insane, she would be so now. She felt as if her very soul was being torn asunder.

"STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!" Bellatrix shrieked in a useless attempt to beg whatever was doing this to her to just end it. Oblivion would be better than this true hell.

She stretched out an arm to the garden gate when the... the thing... engulfed her and started dragging her away from the merciful release of the afterlife. Bellatrix screamed and screamed until she could scream no more.

* * *

 **2** **nd** **of May 1998 – Hogwarts – Great Hall Antechamber**

_Darkness._

_Silence._

_Clarity._

_Anger._

_Focus._

_**Rage**._

Bellatrix's eyes shot open and her body ached as her lungs drew its first breath in almost twenty hours. Her body, her head, ached terribly and her joints were stiff as a board. Her heart ached as it started to pump warm blood through her body once more. The dark witch took a few deep breaths and covered her face with her hand to give her eyes time to adjust to the light in the room.

Hogwarts. She was at Hogwarts. And she was alive. The heart pounding in her chest like a hammer was very much indicative of this. The dark witch grunted as she forced her stiffened body to sit up.

She took notice of her surroundings; she seemed to be in some sort of make-shift morgue. All the fallen Death Eaters had been neatly laid out in rows on the floor in a side-room of the ruined main hall. She looked to her side; Rowle, Mulciber, that beast Greyback, that Weasel Scabior, the moron Gibbon who was true to his name, Avery, Yaxley... tranquil in death. A slight cackle escaped from dried lips when she saw the bodies of Rodolphus and his idiot brother. Oh how she had wished this fate on them for so long. Bellatrix also quickly came to the conclusion that Rodolphus smelled better dead than alive, ironically.

However, she didn't see Dolohov or Rookwood among the bodies, nor some of the others. She supposed that they could either have escaped or that Potter's lot was keeping them captive in the dungeons. Perhaps they might be useful, if she could find them.

Bellatrix got to her feet and awkwardly took a few steps to ease her aching muscles. Merlin, it felt good to be alive.

Had she died? She tried to think back, but it was merely a haze. What had she seen? Where had she been? Why was she back? When she tried to remember more clearly, she was immediately confronted with the most intense pain she had ever felt in her life; it was as if someone had jabbed a red-hot poker in her brain and was roughly slashing it about inside her skull.

Bellatrix fell to her knees reeling as she panted heavily; the terrible pain was subsiding when she stopped trying to remember. Besides, what did it matter anyway? Likely her injuries were either severe enough to fool those idiots in thinking she was dead or she actually came back through sheer strength of will. In any case, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Memories of whatever happened to her in limbo might be faded and hazy, but it had left her with clarity and anger nonetheless. She barely even deigned to acknowledge the body of her former lord. For the first time in her life, she knew purpose and was beholden to no one but herself. And the world would tremble before her.

Either way, it was time for payback! She owed the fat house-witch a great debt of pain!

She grinned wickedly when she spotted a wand on Mulciber. The idiots who put them here hadn't bothered to collect the wands. Bellatrix grabbed it and grasped it tightly. She made her way to the heavy wooden door leading into the main hall and pushed it slightly ajar. As predicted, the Great Hall was a half-collapsed mess of rubble, but when she heard the sounds of a celebration somewhere off in the distance, probably outside in the courtyard, she carefully pressed against the side of the door. The fools were enjoying their victory while the evening sun was setting over Hogwarts, bathing it in an orange glow. However, there were several people gathered in the hall. Cleaning, perhaps? Enjoying a quiet moment away from the party? No matter, they would soon regret their decision.

Fate had given her a gift, however, for one of the people in the hall was the fat house-witch whom had deemed to kill her! Perhaps she should return the favor.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Bellatrix pushed the door open and stepped out of the room, holding her wand in front of her. She grit her teeth when she took aim; immediately a power like she had never felt before welled up from within her very being. Oh, how she loved the feeling of magic flowing through her body, but this?! This felt nothing short of spectacular! Her skin tingled when the magic itself crackled in the air around her until it focused on her wand. A massive bolt of power surged forward into the hall while the dark witch let out a gleeful cackle.

* * *

**2nd of May 1998 – Hogwarts – Victory celebration**

Hermione Granger froze in her tracks, doubting her own vision in that very moment. She had just stepped away from the celebration with some others for some quiet contemplation. Dean, whom she had been talking to, frowned at her, not yet seeing what had baffled her so much. Never in a million years did she expect to run into Bellatrix Lestrange being up and about.

At first she thought it had to be a figment. Or that it was Bellatrix's ghost now bound to the halls of Hogwarts. But no. She was not translucent; she was alive! Bellatrix Lestrange was alive! How was this possible? The aurors had checked all the bodies. That evil woman was as dead as dead could be!

She fumbled for her wand and was about to cry out a warning when a massive green bolt of energy shot forward. Every head in the room turned towards the thundering sound of the magic just before it slammed into the ground near Molly's feet.

Molly. Oh, dear god, Molly.

The Weasley Matriarch was flung at least ten meters into the air while the shockwave from the blast knocked all of them off their feet. Hermione yelped as her back was violently slammed against the wall after a brief involuntary flight and ended up in a heap on the ground.

When she opened her eyes and her vision focused, she could clearly see a large crater in the floor. From her position, she could also see Molly Weasley laying prone on the ground. She seemed injured, but was still breathing. That was a relief, at least. But where was Dean? She didn't see him anywhere.

Her body protested as she tried to get to her feet, only to have her eyes fall upon Bellatrix slowly walking towards her. The dark witch had a vicious sneer on her face, showing off her rotting teeth. Slowly, but meticulously, the witch approached her. Hermione tried to force her body to obey her, to get up and run, but she stood no chance.

An unseen force wound around her body, particularly around her neck, and started to squeeze. Hermione fought for every breath when Bellatrix's wordless spell hoisted her into the air. The dark witch chuckled at her, looking her in the eye while grinning. "My, my, my, it's the little brown-haired mudblood! We meet again! It must be fate," Bellatrix mock-pouted. "Awww, is something wrong? Can't talk?"

Hermione tried to speak, but could only croak out half a syllable. She grasped futilely at the unseen bonds.

Bellatrix smiled creepily when she leaned towards her, her face so close to hers. "I smell your fear. It's so thick in the air I can almost taste it," she whispered, her low voice having an oddly seductive quality to it. It made Hermione's skin crawl.

"Ah, and again I see you have something which you stole from me!" Bellatrix winked as she yanked the curved wand from Hermione's hand. "Awww," she cooed at the wand. "Has the nasty little mudblood been mistreating you? Not to worry, your true mistress is here."

She lovingly stroked her wand for a moment while Hermione started to see dark spots floating in front of her eyes as she fought to draw in precious oxygen. The dark witch chuckled and undid the spell, causing Hermione to drop to the ground and throw a coughing fit.

"I suppose I should thank you for not snapping it," said Bellatrix. "Here, you may have this one. Don't say auntie Bella never gave you anything."

An old wooden wand clattered to the floor in front of Hermione which she quickly grasped. Bellatrix giggled like a little girl while she danced through the hall, doing a pirouette in front of the crater she had just created.

She became acutely aware that someone was approaching from the corridor and tried to croak out a warning. Harry. Harry stepped into view, no doubt wondering what was happening in the Great Hall. The moment her friend saw what was happening, he let out a cry and fumbled for his wand. "Le...LESTRANGE!"

"Wittle bwaby Pwotter," Bellatrix laughed. "Oh, this is shaping up to be quite the reunion, isn't it?"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Hermione watch in a mixture of horror and fascination when the dark witch literally plucked the spell out of the air with her hand, twirled the magic around her finger and then squashed it when she shaped her hand into a fist. What she had seen... was impossible. Oh, she knew Bellatrix was a very talented, even prodigal witch, but what she had just seen with her very eyes defied everything she knew about magic.

"Well," sneered the dark witch. "That wasn't very nice, Potter!"

"Lestrange!" Harry narrowed his eyes. "Give yourself up. Voldemort is dead! It's over!"

"NOTHING IS OVER!" Bellatrix shrieked at the top of her lungs. "As usual, you have no idea what's going on, boy! And this time, you won't have old man Dumbledore to figure things out for you!"

Hermione saw the dark witch lash out with her wand. A green orb of magical energy shot out and flew into the hallways... towards the dungeons.

No.

No, she wouldn't.

"Harry!" Hermione croaked. "The other Death Eaters..."

She could see in Harry's expression what she needed to do. In unison, Harry and Hermione raised their wands; stunners blasted at Bellatrix from both sides. For a moment, Hermione thought they'd had her, but it was soon revealed just how foolish they'd been. The dark witch cackled like mad while she deftly caught both spells with her wand and, after whispering a counter, both were immediately returned to sender with power increased threefold. Once again, Hermione was knocked to the ground; her entire body screamed with pain.

Harry was downed as well, groaning on the floor while Bellatrix stepped away from them. She could hear noise coming from the corridor leading to the dungeon, confirming her worst fears.

"Bellatrix," Hermione rasped, hoping the witch would respond favorably to her first name. "Please. Don't do this. There's nothing left for you to fight for."

It wasn't a threat. It was a plea. After seven years living under the emergent shadow of Voldemort, Hermione only wished for an end to this nightmare.

The dark witch turned to her. Oddly enough, her cruel sneer was gone, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "I am sorry to ruin your victory, little mudblood," she spoke softly. "But there is plenty left to fight for."

Hermione closed her eyes when she saw several Death Eaters running into the hall, following the green orb Bellatrix had sent for them. The moment they saw her, the men and women looked around nervously and started murmuring among themselves. "Come," Bellatrix grinned, twirling a lock of curly dark hair with her wand. "We have work to do."

"Any why should we follow you?" mocked one of the men. One flick of the dark witch's wand, and the man was hurtling through the air, screaming as he shot into the room where they had stored the bodies.

"Any more insightful questions?" Bellatrix let out a girlish giggle while the other Death Eaters remained silent.

' _This can't be happening. This isn't happening,'_ Hermione thought as she could only watch helplessly.

Apparently, however, one miracle wasn't enough for this evening. The heavy door opposite of the hall, near one of the collapsed towers, flew off its hinges and was launched into the room. It collided against the wall and slammed onto the stone ground with a clank. Hermione's jaw dropped when she saw just who was standing in the doorway. There, like a raven emerging from a shadow complete with his swishing cloak, was stood Severus Snape. His usual stony expression apparent on his face, he raised his wand just as Bellatrix let out an enthusiastic whoop.

"Snivellus!" she greeted cheerfully.

Snape said nothing. Instead magic shot from his wand which Bellatrix immediately blocked. Spells started blasting through the room back and forth as both of them dueled with vigor.

Hermione had never seen such raw power in either of them, but it was obvious to her that they were evenly matched. Both Snape and Bellatrix circled each other, their wands cleaving through the air in almost perfect unison. It was like watching two ultimately talented virtuoso's playing the piano in a concert hall.

Two people. Assumed dead. Wielding magics beyond anything Hermione had ever seen. Of course, if Bellatrix had been able to cheat death, someone like Snape surely would have been able to do so as well.

"Professor?" spoke a baffled Harry after her friend got to his feet.

"Stay back, fool boy!" Snape sneered while dueling, plucking one of Bellatrix's spells out of the air and tossing it back at her while the dark witch giggled gleefully.

Most of the unarmed Death Eaters were staying away from the dueling pair, but the unconscious Molly had no such luxury; she was prone on the floor but right within the line of fire. Hermione gasped and didn't hesitate. The young witch shot forward and dove to the ground near Molly, twirling her wand to conjure a protective charm around them both. However, it was quickly shattered to bits by one of Bellatrix's spells... it didn't even hit the shield itself, but merely flew over it. Thinking quickly, Hermione grabbed Molly while staying as low to the ground as possible and started to drag her behind a piece of fallen debris. She grunted and heaved; Molly was rather heavy, after all.

Snape and Bellatrix were still fighting when Harry was besides her. He grabbed one of Molly's arms and managed to help Hermione drag her to safety.

"Well," spoke Bellatrix while she and Snape circled each other. "It's been a lot of fun, Snivellus, but I think we should be off now. Care to join us?"

"Oh, I don't think so," replied Snape.

"Hm, pity," shrugged Bellatrix before making an exaggerated bow. "It would have been so nice to kill you in your sleep!"

Bellatrix cackled while she waved her wand; her magic engulfed the escaped Death Eaters, transforming all of them into a billow of smoke. The dark witch shot off into the sky, the others following in her wake. In the blink of an eye, they were gone while the echo of Bellatrix's maniacal laughter slowly died in the ruined Great Hall.

Whatever just happened, it had left more questions than answers.

"Professor," said Harry while Hermione checked on Molly. "You're alive?"

"Yes," replied Snape with his usual acidic drawl. "Considering the fact that we are speaking right now should make that rather self-evident. Any more stupid questions, Potter?"

Harry seemed to bristle for a moment, but let the comment pass. "She's stable," said Hermione. "We should get her to madame Pomfrey immediately."

"I'll go get her," said Harry before hurrying off into the corridor, leaving Hermione with Snape. The young witch looked up and saw a man she knew had died. In fact, Professor Snape still bore the wounds on his neck where he had been bitten by Nagini. Yet he was here, alive and well. She should be happy, really. Snape hadn't deserved to be one of Voldemort's victims.

"Professor," said Hermione. "Where would Bellatrix go? What does she want? There's nothing left to fight for. Voldemort is dead. The war is over!"

"No, miss Granger," Snape replied while looking up into the sky. "This war... has only just begun."


	2. Circle in the sand

**1st of May 2003 – Geneva, Switzerland – Hotel de la Paix**

Hermione Granger leaned on the windowsill of her Muggle hotel room. Honestly, she hadn't thought a five-star Muggle hotel would be in the Ministry's ever waning budget, but she wasn't complaining. This comfortably posh room would be her refuge for the duration of the summit in the coming weeks and she suspected she was going to need it. From the window, she had a lovely view of Lac Leman and Mont Salève beyond.

The young witch enjoyed the view for a moment before stepping over to her suitcase. In the suitcase were a few sets of clothes and some books to read whenever she had a rare quiet moment; as a diplomat, she was used to living out of her suitcase. Though not usually in rooms like this.

While she was laying out her clothes on the bed, her eye fell on the complementary newspaper the staff had left on her nightstand. The first thing she noticed was the date. In all the bustle surrounding the summit she had been setting up, she barely had any time to reflect on the fact that it was five years ago since the battle of Hogwarts.

Five years ago to date since the start of this horrible, devastating war.

The second thing she noticed was the article on the front page. It was news from the front, along with several photographs. Hermione abhorred war photographs. The photograph showed the effects of this war; battle-mages tirelessly fighting each other among devastated front-line battlefields. It had been a staple for the past years. Europe had been torn apart, with several seemingly endless front-line battles along strategically placed settlements among their borders running all the way from the Baltic to the Adriatic seas. The photograph reminded Hermione of old photographs of World War One she had seen in history books. Muggles or wizards, it didn't matter; blood was just as red for everyone. It was nothing short of a miracle that they'd managed to keep the entire war hidden from the Muggles for so long. The article said things had been eerily quiet at the front-lines the past month. If it was up to her, the fronts would fall silent as soon as she could muster.

Hermione threw herself on the bed, lying on her back facing the ceiling. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, her keen mind thinking back to all that had happened the past half of a decade.

It all started with Death Eaters on the run after Bellatrix's escape. Despite what had happened at Hogwarts, they simply weren't given priority with much of the Ministry in shambles. With Voldemort dead, they weren't considered a threat so only a token task-force of aurors was assigned to finding them. Other nations had always considered Voldemort to be the UK's problem, so most of them declined to assist. While the Ministry rebuilt, there was a sense of normality for a time. Silence before the storm, at best.

Bellatrix wasn't discovered; the aurors had been recalled long before. Rather, she announced her own presence through her now infamous speech in which she proclaimed to represent a new future for the wizarding world. By that time, she and her followers were already deeply entrenched; she had the Russian Ministry of Magic in her back pocket and she was expanding fast. The UK Ministry was too weakened and the European nations too divided to put up a united front against her. Before anyone could react, Bellatrix had assumed control of Scandinavia and several nations of Eastern Europe. The Walpurgis Union was born. The most frightening part was that almost all those Ministries had joined the Walpurgis Union willingly.

With the UK Ministry slow to respond, several Western European nations banded together to try to halt the Walpurgis Union's ruthless expansion. Led by a few UK veterans, volunteers of all nations formed the Phoenix Alliance in hopes of stopping her advance. Conflict was inevitable.

The first skirmishes were disastrous for the Phoenix Alliance and the situation looked grim; until Snape stepped to the plate. With his knowledge of Death Eater tactics and the fact that he had the backing of the war-torn UK Ministry, Snape quickly rose through the ranks until he became the official leader of the Phoenix Alliance's military forces. It was due to Snape's uncanny tactical insight that the Alliance won its first major victories.

Unfortunately, it all went downhill from there. While countries kept flocking to both sides, fronts were formed along the former eastern European block as the conflict expanded into Africa, with covert strikes against holdings on both sides in allied nations. The world had been clearly divided and everybody was being drawn in. The number of nations which remained neutral were diminishing fast. Powerful hold-outs such as China, Japan and the US were being actively courted by both sides.

Bellatrix and her Walpurgis Union remained strong in territories with a rich magical tradition; Transylvania, Russia, Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, Greece... Meanwhile, the Alliance was settled mostly in Western Europe, along with some outer territories like Australia.

The conflict reached a complete impasse, leading to increasingly terrifying tactics and weaponry. Both sides committed terrible atrocities. Snape had ordered devastating raids while Bellatrix had started using weaponized Magical creatures. The Union's ensorcelled Nundu's patrolling the plains of Africa were the stuff of nightmares, leaving so many dead in their wake. Not that the Alliance was a hair better; using dementors to hit civilian targets within the Union as a demoralizing tactic was only one of many examples.

Propaganda machines worked overtime on both sides. Newer and cleverer lies were printed each and every day, to a point that it was hard to to discern truth from fiction these days. It was a secret war; a war of infiltration, politics and attrition all at once, using unwitting Muggle governments as pawns.

Ironically, the war had started a new era of innovation in formerly deeply stagnated fields. New spells were actively being developed as well as ways to counter new and old ones. Classic protections such as unplottability and the Fidelius charm were utterly useless now. Frighteningly enough, it had driven home the point on both sides that nobody was safe anymore.

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a sigh. The scale of this war was simply… staggering.

The past five years, Hermione had been working for the Alliance as a diplomat rather than a soldier. Her duties were mostly concerned with putting out brush-fires and prevent additional fights from breaking out. She mostly settled disputes between Union and Alliance nations bordering each other. It wasn't only a role she enjoyed and found incredibly satisfying, but she felt it was a calling of a sort. Yes, she was self-aware enough to realize she was the insufferable know-it-all Snape proclaimed her to be, but she was able to put her eye for detail and her zeal for knowledge to good use; Hermione always researched any bit of background on a conflict, even if it seemed irrelevant. Getting people to talk was usually enough to lead to a resolution whenever Hermione was moderating.

As such, Hermione didn't have much time for a personal life. The young witch smiled to herself as her short-lived relationship with Ron had been just that: short-lived. It was a spur of the moment thing, really, which turned awkward really quickly during those weeks after Voldemort's fall. She remembered how honestly _relieved_ the both of them were when they broke up and once again became the friends they had always been. These days, she and Ron still had a good laugh about it whenever they met up for a drink in the pub if the both of them happened to be in England at the same time. She hadn't had any lovers since Ron simply due to lack of time. Honestly, she considered her work to be too important for such distractions.

A knock sounded on her door. "Hermione?" sounded muffled through the wood.

Immediately, Hermione got off the bed and rushed to the door. She opened it and smiled, taking a moment to hug one of her oldest and dearest friends. "Harry!" she greeted. "It's so good to see you."

"It's only been three weeks," the Boy Who Lived And Now Waged War shrugged. Though he looked a bit more weary than usual, he was still the same old Harry. These days, Hermione often teased him about his old-fashioned glasses and kept urging him to get a trendier new pair. To which Harry stubbornly refused.

"Even so," said Hermione.

Harry looked around the room for a bit. "Wow, this is a bit of alright, isn't it? You should see the broom-closet they stuffed me in. You'd think they'd give the Boy Who Lived a room which isn't right next to a boiler."

"How are things in intelligence, Harry?" asked Hermione as her friend strolled over to the window to enjoy the view.

"Hah," Harry smirked. "Most of the analysts think you're a dangerous lunatic. This summit of yours has a lot of people very nervous. Most of them expect the worst."

Hermione crossed her arms. "The worst being?"

"The summit failing hard and leading to renewed conflicts," Harry returned.

"Over my dead body," Hermione replied resolutely. "I won't allow it."

Hermione knew this summit was controversial, as she had been met with resistance at every turn. ' _Peaceful coexistence with extremists is never an option_ ', Snape had told her bluntly. As if the wizarding world tearing itself apart was any better. There were those who compared her with Neville Chamberlain. Hermione never let it weaken her resolve. She _knew_ she was right about this. That Bellatrix had agreed to attend the summit only proved her point.

"Oh, I trust _you_ ," replied Harry with a twinkle in his eye. "It's Snape and Bellatrix I don't trust. And speaking of the devil, I just wanted to let you know Snape has arrived," he said. "I'm not officially part of his entourage, but I managed to talk him into letting me come along anyway. I won't be at the summit, though. He thinks I'll be a disruptive influence."

Hermione nodded and rushed over to a map of the conference hall at the Swiss Ministry lounge. "Perhaps it's for the best. The number of people in both parties need to be equal. Bellatrix is due to arrive tomorrow and I need to get all the details just right. Starting with the seating arrangements."

Harry frowned and looked over Hermione's shoulders. "Seating arrangements? Does that really matter?"

"Oh, absolutely," said Hermione. "Neither party must feel like they've got the upper hand or getting preferential treatment because it will skew any negotiations. There's a lot going on at a subconscious level during tense situations. The room temperature must be just right; not too warm, not too cold. For a room that size, twenty-two degrees centigrade is ideal. Fresh air has to be pumped in regularly as well."

"Whoa," said Harry. "It really goes that deep into details?"

Hermione nodded with a smile. Over the past five years, she had this worked out to an exact science. "Take Bellatrix, for example. She is shorter than Snape, so her seat needs to have a higher cushion. They need to be at equal eye-height. She can't get the impression that Snape is looking down on her or it might affect the negotiations."

"Hermione," said Harry. "I know you've been working so hard to get this summit on the rails, but do try to get some sleep. It doesn't help if the negotiator keeps yawning during the talks."

Hermione chuckled at the image. "I know, Harry, I know. But this summit needs to be perfect. It's historic, Harry. The first time both leaders of this conflict will meet in person to talk to one another. I have a really good feeling about it. I think we might finally see some light at the end of this tunnel."

"Merlin knows, I bloody well hope so," Harry ran a hand through his hair. Though Hermione had never been on the front lines, she knew Harry had. The things he must have seen... "Still, this is Bellatrix and Snape we're talking about. I'm picturing a mixture of snark and shriek."

Hermione smiled at that. "It'll be fine, Harry. I know how much depends on this. I'll give it my all."

"I know you will, Hermione," Harry smiled. "Say, do you think _she_ will be there?"

She. Harry could only mean one person. Luna. Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. Ever after four years, she still couldn't believe it. She still remembered where she was when she had heard it. She was at the Burrow, staying with the Weasleys in between diplomatic missions as she didn't have a proper home. It was Ron whom had told her that Luna had defected to the Union. It didn't make sense then, it didn't make sense now. Luna had no love for Bellatrix Black, having been at her mercy... just like Hermione had been. So why? If the spy reports were accurate, Luna had become part of Bellatrix's inner circle, even.

Luna's defection had been a punch to the gut for the both of them, especially after what the three of them had gone through together.

"I don't know," Hermione shook her head. "But if she will be, I have some questions for her."

"As do I," Harry nodded grimly. "Oh, before I forget. Ron told me to wish you luck with the summit and to give the lot of them a good tongue-lashing. He would have told you himself, but command sent him and a group of aurors to Germany to check out rumors of a group of Wallies crossing the border from Denmark."

Hermione smiled to herself. Dear old Ron. Such a good friend.

"Also, I'm taking you out to dinner," Harry crossed his arms. "No protests. We're going."

Hermione blinked. "But... I have much preparations to do. So many details to work out!"

"You. Are. Going. To. Relax!" Harry poked her shoulder to emphasize each word.

Hermione sighed heavily. "You're not going to leave me alone until I come with you, right?"

"Not a chance," Harry smirked.

"Fine!" Hermione threw up her hands. She _was_ feeling rather hungry.

"Good," said Harry as he guided Hermione to the door.

* * *

**2nd of May 2003 – Geneva, Switzerland – Magie Pratique Wizarding Court**

Hermione was nervous. She wasn't usually at the start of negotiations, but these were rather extraordinary circumstances. Switzerland was willing to host the summit as a neutral party. The large round conference room usually served as a Wizarding court for the Swiss Ministry and was a mutually agreed upon location by both parties. Getting everyone to merely agree on the location had taken months of preparations.

In her mind, she went over the list again and again. Temperature. Seating arrangements. Availability and time tables. Thankfully, mutual security arrangements had been handled through Snape's people, which had been a load of her mind.

Hermione was fully expecting grueling negotiations over the course of the coming three days and a diplomatic minefield. A lot would depend on both Bellatrix's mental state as well as Snape's willingness to compromise. Though she knew the man to be pragmatic, she also knew him as someone who was shrewd and condescending at the most inopportune moments. The real unknown would still be Bellatrix; she had suffered at the hands of the dark witch and feared it might impair her judgment. She certainly wasn't looking forward to seeing her again.

By now, most of the attendees had arrived. Snape and Bellatrix had both brought an entourage. In the middle of the room stood a large round wooden table, while either side of the room was adorned with the colorful banners of both the Phoenix Alliance and the Walpurgis Union.

Hermione would sit in between the two groups, with Snape and Bellatrix on either side along with their entourage. Bodyguards of both groups stood on either sides of the room.

"It seems Bellatrix is fashionably late," Snape crossed his arms while speaking with obvious disdain.

"She will come," Hermione said.

"I knew this was a pointless exercise," Snape drawled.

"Let's wait a while longer," said Hermione. Truth be told she was getting slightly worried.

A few moments later, the double doors leading into the hallway flew open. Two bodyguards, a man and a woman, stepped through the door first and took positions on either side. And there she was. Bellatrix Black.

This was the first time Hermione had seen her since that day at Hogwarts, but she had certainly changed since then. Hermione had expected the propaganda images of her the Union was spreading to have been exaggerated, but, truly, they didn't do her justice. Bellatrix wore a black dress with silver patterns sewn into the fabric as she strode into the room as if it was her own throne room. Her hair had been meticulously dressed and long jet black curls cascaded over her back as she walked; her intense dark brown eyes were lined with black eye-shadow in stark contrast with her pristine pale skin. Lips adorned with red lipstick parted for a grin which revealed healed and white teeth. The Azkaban tattoo on her neck was gone, something Hermione had thought impossible to remove. Oddly enough, there seemed to be a dainty pink shopping bag in one hand.

All-in-all, Bellatrix was a world leader now and she looked the part. Glamorous, imperious and as beautiful as she was demented.

An annoyed expression crossed Bellatrix's features when she apparently forgot that she agreed to come to this summit wandless. The dark witch drew her curved wand from the holster sewn into her dress and handed it to her bodyguard before approaching the table.

"Well, well, well," the dark witch looked directly at Hermione. The young witch felt rather uncomfortable under her gaze; she'd never been this close to the dark witch without her harming her, after all. "Look who it is! It's been, what, five years since we've last seen each other. Fate has a way of putting us together, hasn't it? Oh, uhm, I suppose I should say hello to you too, Snivellus."

Bellatrix took her seat and immediately started to glare at Snape, making Hermione thank her lucky stars that she had remembered to adjust the seat to her height.

"Honestly, Bella," Snape raised an eyebrow. "If you cannot be trusted with something as simple as showing up on time, I don't think anything we agree upon with be worth the price of the ink and parchment."

"I just wanted to do some shopping first," Bellatrix pouted like a little girl, putting her finger to her lips. "I always wanted to own one of those funny little Swiss clocks. Would you like to see it?"

Snape glowered at the dark witch. "No," was his one word reply, laced with utter contempt.

Hermione chose this moment to scrape her throat in preparation for her welcoming speech. "Before we begin, I want to thank you both for having the courage to agree to this summit. For years, our wizarding world has been tearing itself apart with many innocent people caught in the middle. What I am hoping for is that we can all find a middle ground and a start towards ending the conflict between our two sides. Though I am a member of the Phoenix Alliance, I serve us all in the cause for peace."

Hermione found herself under the scrutiny of Bellatrix. "Just how long have you been practicing that speech in front of the mirror, kitten?"

That comment broke Hermione's concentration; the dark witch had been quite right, in fact. So much was depending on this summit, that she had in fact been practicing her opening speech... a lot.

"I, uhm, I only wish to say that I am grateful that the both of you are here. The eyes of the entire wizarding world are upon us. Shall we begin?"

"By all means," Snape drawled. "Let's get this farce over with, then."

"Oh come now, Snivellus," Bellatrix cackled. "Whatever the outcome, you know it'll be amusing."

"First of all," said Hermione. "Let us clear the air and lay on the table what all of us expect from this summit."

Bellatrix was quick to answer that question. "How about unconditional surrender?"

Snape didn't miss a beat. "Accepted."

That made the dark witch laugh. "You know what I meant," she chuckled as she shook her dark locks. "Alright, let me tell me what I want from you. I want the Phoenix Alliance to formally recognize us as a legitimate sovereign nation. I want all the contested territories to be handed over to my control. I want all prisoners of war returned to our borders. And I want a new broom! I've been hearing good things about the Comet 310."

Snape was quick to react. "Out of the question! On all points."

"Even the broom?" Bellatrix pouted mockingly.

"Especially the broom!"

Ah, banter. This was good. Hermione was quite satisfied with how it was going so far. Banter rather than threats and Bellatrix being surprisingly lucid. Oh, her petulance was absolutely a deliberate effort to annoy the hell out of Snape, who was in turn actively posturing. Still, she had given Hermione something to latch onto. "Alright," Hermione said. "Let's start small and work our way up. Lady Black, you expressed a desire to have prisoners of war returned. You are, however, also holding prisoners of your own. Would you be against a prisoner exchange?"

Bellatrix seemed thoughtful for a moment. "We could do with less useless layabouts eating our food, yes."

"Commander Snape, would you be against a prisoner exchange?" Hermione asked.

He remained silent for a bit, in quiet contemplation. "No, I would not be," he finally replied.

And there is was. Common ground. And to have found it so quickly. Certainly, there would be a lot of work ahead, a lot of details yet, but this relatively simple prisoner exchange could be what would open the door to further concessions. Further negotiations. A dialogue. If she was lucky, she would be able to strengthen this prisoner exchange treaty with another concession. Hermione felt elated; this summit would be the first domino to knock over all the others.

The negotiations started in earnest and devolved into talks about the details of the prisoner exchange. Numbers, locations, dates, frequency, the fate of future prisoners... The discussion was mostly between the entourage, with either Snape or Bellatrix interjecting only seldomly. Meanwhile, Hermione was taking notes in order to help draft the treaty later. This prisoner exchange would be huge... not only was it the first time that both sides had sought diplomatic solutions at this high a level, but it would give hope for people on both sides whom had been imprisoned for as long as five years.

Bellatrix had gone rather quiet during the entire affair; in fact, she looked quite bored and overtly yawned more than once. However, when Bellatrix caught Hermione looking in her direction, the dark witch's expression changed to a wicked grin right before she winked at her.

Hermione immediately looked away, froze up and avoided further eye contact. The proximity to this madwoman made her nervous, that much was true, but she wouldn't allow Bellatrix to intimidate her. Not in the slightest. Still, Hermione was inexplicably drawn to her. As odd as it seemed, Bellatrix was... charismatic. She was self-assured, witty and fiendishly clever in her dealings with the Phoenix Alliance diplomats. Hermione only worried that if she kept antagonizing an increasingly irate Snape the way she did, the summit might just end prematurely.

More time passed, more details discussed. Hermione was about to call for a recess when she noticed something odd. Snape was slowly tapping his fingers on the wood of the table while Bellatrix was conferring with a member of her entourage. That was strange in itself; Hermione had never known Snape to do something like this. It was subtle, very subtle. Had she been sitting further away from him, Hermione might never have noticed it.

Rap, rap, rap, a succession of four fingers on wood. Until it suddenly stopped, with Snape's index finger still hovering above the wood. From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see that Bellatrix had noticed it too; the dark witch was tensing up considerably.

All hell broke loose while Snape's raised finger hit the wood. It all happened so quickly.

Movement from the shadows above. Bellatrix's entourage, all four of them, crying out as magic shredded through their bodies. Bellatrix snarling and throwing over the table, causing Snape to jump back. The dark witch reaching down her dress, giving Hermione a view of her shapely leg as she drew her curved wand from her lacy leg garter. Had... had she given a _fake_ wand to her bodyguards?

Hermione yelped as she was suddenly violently jerked towards Bellatrix. The young witch felt her talons digging into the skin of her jaw while the cold tip of her wand pressed sharply against her temple. Hermione was roughly spun around, facing Snape as Bellatrix's free arm coiled around her waist with such magically enhanced strength that she felt as if she was being attacked by a boa constrictor.

"I knew it!" Bellatrix hissed wickedly. "I knew you couldn't be trusted! After all, you're a born traitor, Snivellus!"

Only now Hermione could see what had happened. Some of Snape's auror commandos had been hiding in the shadows this whole time, just waiting for the signal to strike. All of Bellatrix's people were lying dead on the floor, while Snape stood among their bodies with a wand in hand. God, she'd known them; she'd talked and negotiated at length with all of them. Despite them being on the other side of the war, they'd been good people.

"My clock," Bellatrix snarled.

Hermione gulped, adrenaline surging through her as Bellatrix pressed her body to hers. "W-what?" she trembled.

"Pick. Up. My. Clock!" Bellatrix hissed in her ear.

Hermione shivered as she looked around and saw they were standing next to a paper shopping bag containing the cuckoo-clock the dark witch had apparently went shopping for earlier. Hermione did as she was ordered to do, holding on to the bag while Bellatrix was inching the both of them to the double doors behind her.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she realized Bellatrix's twirling of her wand next to her hand wasn't just for show; she was performing the complicated hand-gestures of a Bombarda spell.

"Steady, Snivellus," Bellatrix lay her chin on Hermione's shoulder and kept twirling her wand over the skin of her cheek. "You wouldn't want to risk your star diplomat, now do you? Want to bet how far her brain matter will spray? I'm thinking at least twenty feet. Step one foot closer and we'll find out together..."

The young witch could only watch in terror as Snape stood there watching them, wand in hand. He was as stoic and cold in his expression as he had been when teaching Potions classes years ago. Behind him, the auror commandos were taking up positions.

"Press the attack," Snape spoke calmly. "Miss Granger is expendable."

The young witch barely had time to gasp at this betrayal when she saw four bright magical streaks of power shooting towards both of them. She let out a cry when they bashed against a powerful shield Bellatrix had erected over them. It didn't take long before Bellatrix would retaliate.

Magic crackled from the curved wand and Hermione could feel the searing heat from the magical fire it produced. An explosion engulfing both the commandos, Snape and any diplomat still alive unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius.

Fire. Smoke. Cries of pain.

Snape stepped out of the fire, his protego up while behind him the commandos burned. Such a horrible, horrible stench of burning flesh...

A massive bolt of pure power shot from Snape's wand and, equally impossible, Bellatrix deflected it expertly. It flew over their heads and smashed both double doors behind her into splinters. The dark witch let out a cackle as Snape had inadvertently secured her escape.

Suddenly, Hermione found herself being violently spun around to face a grinning Bellatrix. The dark witch took her clock from her and grabbed the back of her head, forcing her down while she mockingly kissed her forehead. The next thing she knew, Hermione was being magically propelled right into Snape. She and her former professor toppled to the ground, only for her to be roughly pushed aside.

Hermione rolled to her stomach while behind her the echoes of Bellatrix's cackles slowly died in the hall beyond the door. Boots of the remaining commandos almost trampled her when they ran past her with Snape in tow, and she was left to look upon the remnants of her summit; bodies of the dead, the banners in flames and her hope for peace being well and duly crushed.

* * *

**2nd of May 2003 – Geneva, Switzerland – Swiss Ministy security suite**

"THREE YEARS OF MY LIFE!" shouted Hermione. After her ordeal, Hermione had been taken to a local Swiss Ministry post along with the few survivors of her ill-fated summit. Now that the young witch had recovered enough to process what had happened, she was absolutely livid. Snape was standing in front of her, looking at her with slight disdain while Harry stood in between them.

"Three years of making contacts, trading favors, correspondence, begging, pleading, threatening and hoping," Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Three years of working to this point in hopes of finally opening up a dialogue! Three years completely down the drain because you decided on an assassination attempt on Black!"

Snape crossed his arms. "If you are quite done with your emotional outburst..."

"I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED!" Hermione shouted back as she threw up her arms in frustration. "We had a prisoner exchange in the pocket!"

Snape shook head head in dismissal. "She would have never kept to the agreement. You don't _know_ her like I do, miss Granger. The only reason she was here at all was because she thought it might be amusing. In case you failed to notice, she was more interested in her cuckoo-clock than anything said at the table!"

"Harry, did you know about this?!" Hermione turned her ire to her friend now, who held up his hands immediately.

"No," said Harry. "And if I had, I would have told you."

"That is exactly why you weren't in the know, Potter," Snape replied. "The only reason why you are here in Geneva at all is because refusing your presence would have raised too many suspicions."

Hermione still couldn't believe it. She strolled over to one of the desks and took a sip from a glass of water. "This summit was our last chance," she spoke with a small voice. "Our last chance to try to get both sides to talk. But now we're further apart than ever! Bellatrix, and in fact nobody from the Walpurgis Union will ever trust me again! What good is a diplomat whom has lost all of her credibility?"

Snape let out a brief sigh. "Miss Granger," said Snape. "The only reason why I've allowed you to try to arrange this summit in the first place was for a chance to rid the world of Bellatrix Black. Cut off the head and the serpent will die."

And there it was. She'd been used. The last three years, she had been used and had been totally blind to it. The world was worse off for it; Bellatrix's response had been swift and merciless. Fighting had increased on all fronts, there'd been word of raids on Alliance allied wizarding communities along the border. There were even reports of missing persons.

"Oh, yes," said Harry while rolling his eyes. "Because that worked _so_ well with Voldemort. I'm more interested what exactly happened during the scuffle at the summit. You ordered the commandos to attack Bellatrix despite the fact that she had a wand to Hermione's head?!"

Snape's reply was surprisingly matter-of-fact. "I did. It was too good an opportunity to pass up."

To his credit, Harry was right in his face. "HERMIONE IS NOT EXPENDABLE!" he shouted. "You know, I used to think you were one of the bravest men I've ever known. But we... we're just tools to you, aren't we?"

The accusation didn't seem to phase Snape in the slightest. "The Alliance asked me to win this war for them," he replied. "And I will do so by _any means necessary_."

"At least Dumbledore actually cared about us!" Harry spat back.

Hermione listened and shook her head, supporting herself on the table with both her hands. A torrent of emotions shot through her, ranging from sadness to anger until it settled upon apathy. "Never mind, Harry," she said calmly. "There's nothing we can do about it now, is there?"

"Hermione?" Harry started.

"I'm done," Hermione grit her teeth and stole one last look at Snape. "I'm done with you and your stupid war."

"Hermione!" Harry called after her while she rushed towards the door. The room had become entirely too small for her liking, the walls falling in upon themselves. She had to get out of there.

"Oh, let her go, Potter," sounded Snape as she left the room without looking back.

* * *

**2nd of May 2003 – Geneva, Switzerland – Hotel de la Paix**

The bottle of fire-whiskey stood on the table near the balcony of her hotel room. Hermione had never been a heavy drinker, but today she had had a wand pressed against her head, had been thrown to the wolves by the very person she had been an advisor to since the start of this bloody war and had seen her hopes for peace shattered.

She figured she was entitled to a bit of a drink.

Or two.

Or _five_.

Snape's foolish assassination attempt would only intensify the war and, due to her loss of credibility, had effectively ended her career as a diplomat. Truth be told, she had plenty to be angry about, and not only directed at Snape. Bellatrix Black, that vile woman, had used her as a human shield once again. And she had let it happen. What were lives worth anymore?

She had known most of Walpurgis diplomats in Bellatrix's entourage; they might have been from the other side, but they were not bad people and had always treated her with respect. And Snape's commandos just cut them down without a second thought. And then Bellatrix... set the commandos on fire... oh god, the smell. She would never forget the smell.

It made her think about the things which were really important.

There was a knock on the door, but Hermione wasn't in any mood for visitors. "Go away!" she shouted at the door while pouring herself a second glass. "No interviews!"

"Hermione?" sounded from behind the door. "It's Harry. Can I come in?"

Hermione closed her eyes and hesitated for a moment. She put her glass down and looked at the door. With a flick of her wand, the lock opened. "Come in. It's unlocked."

A few moments later, Harry stepped into the room and took a seat opposite to her. "Have you been drinking?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

"The glass and the bottle of fire-whiskey on the table should make that rather self-evident, Harry," she said. Hermione hadn't meant to sound so snarky about it, but she wasn't really in the mood for niceties.

Harry looked at her with an intense expression. At that moment, the man she had called friend for almost fourteen years looked twice his age. "I... I don't think I can do this anymore, Hermione," he spoke softly.

Hermione quite knew how he felt. "Remember when we thought this war would be over soon? How we told ourselves that Bellatrix would never be stable enough to lead an army?"

"I never expected her to be kicking our arses all over Europe," Harry sighed. "Since Snape's folly, there's been more news of more retaliatory strikes across all borders. Thankfully all's quiet in Africa, small mercy there. But Snape wants to make use of the confusion to push the Wallies out of Denmark while the bulk of their forces are busy in Eastern Europe. I've seen the projections of losses on both sides and Snape found it... acceptable. He said it so… so easily."

Hermione closed her eyes. The summit she worked for had only ended up costing more lives. She felt genuinely sick to her stomach.

"God, what have we become?" Hermione stammered while she and Harry embraced. Harry was in an equally foul mood.

"It's days like this that makes me yearn back to the cupboard under the stairs."

Hermione closed her eyes. The truth of the matter is that she had already made her decision. "Harry," she whispered while releasing the embrace. "I'm leaving."

Her voice had been tiny and she had been holding back a sob. She hadn't thought it would be this difficult, really. But when Harry looked at her with a stricken expression on his face, she almost caved.

"My parents," Hermione replied softly. "I altered their memories the year before the fall of Voldemort. It was only supposed to be for a short while, Harry. To keep them out of harm's way. But it's been five years now. Five years, Harry. And the end of this war isn't in sight."

"You're going to find them?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "They're in Australia now. I only need to follow the paper trail. Sure, that might take a while, but I have enough clues to track them down. I'm going to do what I should have done ages ago. Find my parents, restore their memories, deal with the fallout. After that, I'm hanging up my wand. I'm done with this war. I'm done with the wizarding world as well. Let them lie in the bed they've made."

There, it was out. It had been said. She hadn't fully meant it, however. There were so many friends in the wizarding world, so many people she cared about. But after what happened today, she felt this was a time she should put herself and her parents first.

"I'll miss you," Harry replied softly. "But I can't blame you for wanting out."

Hermione gave her friend a thoughtful look. "Harry? Why don't you come with me? You've done more than enough for the wizarding world. You deserve to get away from this insanity more than anyone."

Harry shook his head slightly, and offered her a cheeky grin. Hermione saw right through it; she'd known Harry long enough to realize when he was putting a brave face on. "Come on, if I leave then who is going to keep Ron out of trouble, ey?"

That made Hermione laugh, only to meld back into seriousness. "Harry…"

"Hermione," spoke her friend. "Really. I have nowhere else to go. You go to Australia, lay low for a while. Disappear. You'll be harder to track if you use as little magic as possible. Snape is going to try to drag you back kicking and screaming when he finds out what you're trying to do. Australia is Phoenix Alliance territory, so he has ties there."

"I know," said Hermione. "But those ties don't extend to the Muggle world. Not in Alliance territory, at least."

"I won't let him drag you back," Harry said resolutely.

Hermione closed her eyes. "I've exchanged all of my galleons for Australian dollars. My suitcase is packed. All I have to do, is step through the portkey."

"Do it, then," Harry smirked. "Be long gone before Snape knows what you're planning. I do so love to see the look on his face... though I suppose it'll just match the way he usually looks."

Hermione closed her eyes. "Harry," he said. "This isn't a farewell. We _are_ going to see each other again."

"I know," Harry said. "Expect lots of visits after you find your parents. Are you planning to stay in Australia?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "Or maybe we'll find a neutral country to live in. I don't know. I just want to find my parents and then I'll get back in touch with you. I don't know how long it'll take, but until then..."

"I understand, Hermione," spoke Harry. Hermione was grateful for his friendship, as always.

"I wrote a letter to Ron," said Hermione, feeling sad that she couldn't say goodbye to her second dearest friend. "I'll post it by owl before I leave. I hope he'll understand."

"He will," said Harry. "Maybe not at first, but he will. Just... be safe, Hermione. It's going to be hard without you looking out for us."

That made Hermione laugh. "You'll do fine, Harry."

The two friends embraced one last time.

* * *

**3rd of May 2003 – Geneva, Switzerland – Chemin de Traverse wizarding shopping centre**

Hermione sat at a small cafe at the edge of Chemin de Traverse, a trendy shopping center for wizards hidden in Geneva. Wizards and witches went from shops to shops while Hermione took in the sights of perhaps the final glimpse of the wizarding world she would ever see.

In front of her lay a single ticket to Australia. Rather than using the portkey hub, she had visited a travel agent to buy a ticket for a flight to Australia. It'd be forty-eight hours on a plane, sure, but it would give her a lot of free time tot think. And that was what she needed most right now. An extra day to relax and enjoy Geneva would be a wonderful plus. For the first time since ages, Hermione felt good about choosing for herself.

She stirred her tea and took a sip. It wouldn't be so bad to be a regular Muggle again and she missed her parents so badly. Her father Jack, the kindly man and closet-geek whom had carried her on his shoulders through the park and did his best to force-feed her old Star Trek episodes when she was little. Her mother Emma whom had read to her since she was a baby and had given her her love for the written word.

Hermione closed her eyes; they didn't remember any of that. She had tried to tell herself that it had been for the greater good, to protect them from the forces of evil, because she loved them so much. But... what she had done was unethical. Unforgivable. God knows how they were going to react to getting their memories back.

' _Please, let them forgive me,'_ Hermione really didn't want to think about the alternative.

The young witch took out her wand and looked at it. It was actually her first wand, recovered from the stashes of snatchers and returned to her after the fall of Voldemort. She might have to make use of it during her search for her folks, but after that it was going straight to the loft, preferably in a locked chest.

A cry of one of the witches near her caused her to turn her head. At first she thought the woman might have had her pocket picked as pretty crime was surprisingly rampant here. Hermione frowned, however, when she saw the woman looking up in the sky while letting out another shriek. More people were starting to run by now and Hermione looked up.

Hermione gasped when a shadow was cast over the shopping street; hovering above them was one of the Walpurgis Union's dreaded airships. Resembling an odd mix between a wooden sailing vessel and a German zeppelin, they served as troop transports and assault vehicles. They were often was the last thing many Alliance soldiers had ever seen. So transfixed was she, that Hermione was startled by a group of soldiers on brooms suddenly zipping overhead.

Walpurgis Airships traveled in wolf-packs. That there was only one in sight meant the others were spread over the rest of the city, perhaps even the country.

Hermione threw over her table and took cover when the wizards slammed into the buildings, causing debris of stone and wood to come raining down upon the hapless shoppers below. Hermione dared to peek over the table only to see that the Wallies had returned for a second run. More debris rained down while people shouted out in terror all around her.

Then... things... dropped down from the skies, from the airship's dorsal bomb-bays. They looked rather like old fashioned cannonballs, but Hermione had read the reports and knew exactly what these things were; portable one-way portkeys, Weapons of war rendered inert shortly after their deployment. The Walpurgis Union was invading! But... Switzerland was a neutral nation. Why were they here?!

Magic crackled through the air as gigantic war-trolls appeared right next to the portkeys. Now, Hermione had had her own adventures with a troll back in her first year, but that one seemed like a benign teddybear compared to the war-trolls the Wallies were using. They were tall, muscular and mean, wearing jagged steel-plated armor strapped around their arms, legs and chest. A helm partially covered their heads, only allowing a slit for their eyes and an opening which revealed filed teeth in their wide maws. Massive razor-sharp blades were attached to either arm, while each of the trolls was armed with either an axe or a spiked club. Soon enough, the trolls were targeting people and buildings indiscriminately.

Screams surrounded her as Hermione took out her wand and tried to apparate away, only for her spell to fizzle. Of course, escape would be the first thing the invaders would want to prevent. Fires were breaking out as Walpurgis battle-wizards emerged from the portkeys while the trolls continued on their path of destruction. Old instincts honed by the Battle of Hogwarts kicked in; Hermione had to find cover.

Pressing her back against the wall and waiting for one of the trolls to pass, she quickly ran across the street and into the shop. In the general panic, she hoped she could pass unnoticed and hide for the time being. Even though she wanted to get away from the war, it seemed that the war was reluctant to let her go.

The shop she had fled into was, ironically, a corner bookshop with windows looking out on either side of the street. Screaming people, fires, rampaging trolls, explosions, collapsing buildings. She had never been on the front lines in person, but god, if it was anything like this...

Suddenly, the magically amplified voice of Bellatrix Black could be heard from outside. _"Wizards and witches of Switzerland. By allowing an assassination attempt on me to take place on your soil, Switzerland has forfeited its neutrality. Blame your leaders for what's happening to you now!"_

Hermione closed her eyes. More innocent people had become victims to what she had wrought. God, she had actually hoped for an end to this madness.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a massive club swinging right towards the window. Hermione could only let out a yelp and cover her face before she was showered in glass. The force of the blow shook the building, causing the young witch to stagger back and land among the falling bookstacks. She lay on the ground covered with shards of glass and fallen books.

Hermione just lay there for a moment as nearby explosions rocked the building as caused grit to rain down upon her. She seemed unhurt for now, but she figured she shouldn't push her luck. Thankfully, the sounds of combat were further away as the trolls were moving on.

Hermione grunted as she tried the push a fallen bookcase off her legs but found it too heavy to lift. The young witch swore under her breath when she remembered she still had her wand. With a liberal application of magic, she raised the bookcase and crawled out from under it. She pressed her back against the wall and panted; she _had_ to get out of here.

When she suddenly heard boots crunching glass near her, she turned her head. Fear gripped her by the throat as five Walpurgis battle-wizards had just entered the shop. However, their uniforms were different from the shock-troops outside; black as night bearing a small Walpurgis symbol on the left side of their chest which, ironically, was a variation of the Black family crest. Three jackdaws, a hand clutching a wand and a skull at the top of the crest. Their masks resembled a perverse mix between a Muggle gas mask for the eyes and the long-snouted mask of a medieval plague doctor. Rather, the snout ended in a metal beak-like sheath, making the battle-wizards look much like vultures.

One of them stepped forward, a short woman from the look of it. Her heart sank; they must have recognized her. Still, Hermione wouldn't let herself be taken without a fight. Unfortunately, the wand flew from her hand and landed in firm grasp of the woman before Hermione was able to cast a single spell. Helpless before her, Hermione was ready to make the fight physical if need be, even though she was outnumbered. She wanted nothing of this! She had to find her parents.

The woman reached over to the underside of her mask, undid a clasp and removed it from her head with one quick motion. Blonde hair spilled forth and instead of the expected hateful sneer, Hermione was confronted with the warm smile one would give a friend after a long absence.

Hermione blinked as she looked the woman in the eye. "L-Luna?" she whispered.

"Hello Hermione," Luna greeted in her usual cheerfully flighty tone.

Before Hermione could respond, Luna raised her wand. And then there was only darkness.


	3. Virtue to Vice

**3rd of May – Unknown location**

Hermione's awakening was quite a rude one. A splash of freezing water in her face brought her back to the land of the living. But when she opened her eyes, she wished that she hadn't.

She found herself gagged and bound to a chair in a dark room without any windows. Above her hung the single magical light in the room, bearing down on her like a baleful hot sun. Hermione tried to focus on her surroundings to figure out where she was; she heard the sounds of straining ropes and creaking wood. In fact, the very walls seemed to be made from wood, save from the bars in front of her. When she heard the wind howling against the other side of the wood, she realized that it was the hull of a ship. More specifically, one of the Walpurgis Union's airships. Her heart sank; they had taken her prisoner.

Hermione realized she couldn't be alone in this room; someone must have thrown that water in her face, after all. She looked around to see if she could spot anyone in the dark, only to have the other person in the room step into the light from behind the chair.

"Well, well, well," sounded the cruel chuckle of a thin woman with pursed lips, words spoken with a Russian accent. She was cloaked in black and was maybe ten years older than her, grinning at her while smoking a cigarette. Hermione looked up at her, trying to look as defiant as she could.

"Oh, you are a feisty one," the woman smirked while flipping her long blonde hair. "You and I are going to have so much fun!"

She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and let out a puff of smoke. The young witch never let her gaze fall away from the woman and she apparently took offense to that. Without warning, the woman grabbed her by the wrist and pressed the tip of her cigarette on the soft skin between her thumb and index finger. Pain shot through her as she thrashed against her bonds and yelled muffled cries into her gag.

Once the pain stopped, the woman regarded the now crumpled cigarette and chuckled at her. "You owe me a cigarette," she spoke matter-of-factly and flicked the stub into Hermione's face. She quickly turned her head back and forth to avoid anymore burns.

"By now, you're probably wondering what we'll be doing together," winked the woman while Hermione never took his eyes off her. "I am under orders to ferry you into our territory until we are in apparating distance. You have an appointment with our Dark Lady. I've been told she's quite eager to talk to you."

Fear gripped Hermione by the throat. God, they were taking her to be dragged in front of Bellatrix!

The woman laughed and put her hands on the sides of the chair, her face so close to hers that she could smell her pungent perfume. "You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" she laughed mockingly before leaning even more forward. Her cheek pressed against Hermione's now, causing the girl to tremble. "Hmmm... you smell nice."

Suddenly, the woman was gone. Hermione looked around frantically to see where she had gone, only to see her cheerfully coming back pushing a tray on wheels. It looked to be metal, but she couldn't see what it was because of a grey cloth covering the tray. However, she was pretty sure that it wouldn't be good.

"The cruciatus curse," the woman shrugged. "Boring curse, really. I mean, where's the fun for me? I prefer the old fashioned way, don't you? Yes, you look like a girl who respects tradition. Let me show you what toys we will play with."

When the woman removed the cloth, Hermione screamed against her gag. On the table lay an assortment of knives, scalpels, tongs, pliers and even saws. "What?" asked the woman. "Don't you like them? Oh, sorry, I forgot you actually can't answer. Let me fix that."

The dirty rag which served as Hermione's gag was promptly removed, but while the young witch was quite happy not to have the taste of old dried blood in her mouth anymore, she was of the firm belief that her situation had not improved.

"How rude of me," said the woman. "We're going to have so much fun together, but we haven't even been introduced. My name is Ludmilla Sharapova, captain of this fine vessel. And who might you be?"

Ludmilla wore a smile, but there was a coldness behind it. It reminded her much of the fake friendly smile of Dolores Umbridge, a comparison which didn't fill her with confidence. Hermione swallowed and looked up at her captor. "H-h-h-h-hermione..."

"Well, H-h-h-h-hermione," Ludmilla laughed at her own joke. "Do you like scalpels?"

Immediately, Hermione felt the cold flat of a razor sharp scalpel pressed against her cheek. She shivered as Ludmilla slowly slid it back and forth over her soft skin.

"I don't think you do," Ludmilla laughed and put away the scalpel only to pick up another small device which Hermione didn't recognize. "Ever seen once of these?" he said, to which Hermione shook her head.

"There's a tiny little baby-blade in this, and it works like this," she grinned and savagely grabbed Hermione's hand, forcing out her index finger while she struggled against her strength. "You slide it over your finger like this and then you set the blade against the joint. Then you press down slowly... I want you to feel it."

"No!" Hermione cried out as she felt the sharp steel of the blade against the first joint of her finger. "Please don't!"

"Well," chuckled Ludmilla and withdrew the tiny guillotine. "Since you ask so politely. You see, you can also use it to slice off other tiny parts of the body. An ear, a nipple, a patch of skin or even... well, you don't have to worry about that because you're a girl. But I'm sure you get my point."

The woman picked up a rusty saw and held it against the light. "Have you ever had a foot sawn off? I heard it's a once in a lifetime experience."

Hermione felt tears running over her cheeks. "Please... I haven't done anything to you!"

"So you deny trying to assassinate our beloved Lady Black? The savior of the wizarding world?!" Gone was the polite banter, replaced by angry accusations. "You might have fought against that wretch Voldemort, but you let it make you feel cocky! Lady Black will not fall to the likes of you! She has loyal supporters like me who will never allow it!"

"The summit," Hermione gasped. "All I wanted was an end to this horrible war!"

"BULLSHIT!" the woman shouted in her face. "You lured our Lady right into your trap, but she was too strong for you to defeat. And now you hide behind your own lies to save your own skin!"

"No!" Hermione returned through her tears. "I only wanted both sides to finally start talking to each other! We'll never stop fighting each other if we don't start talking!"

"LIAR!" Ludmilla roared and lashed out with her fist. Hermione was struck against the side of her head with such a force that the chair she was tied to toppled. A rush to the ground followed as the helpless girl hit her head against a wooden beam. Pain exploded through her head as her vision started to blur.

A horrible realization came to her; nobody knew where she was. She'd told Harry that she'd hide in the Muggle world to look for her parents and she knew he'd keep his word. Harry would prevent any Alliance wizards from trying to find her. Which meant nobody would be coming for her.

No rescue.

No hope.

Was this how Hermione Granger would find her end? Alone and frightened in the hold of a ship? Or crying in pain at the feet of a vicious dictator? Her parents wouldn't even mourn because they could no longer remember her very existence. She'd never felt so alone.

Through the haze, she could barely hear Ludmilla shouting accusations at her. She could barely feel her ribs buckling while being savagely kicked against the side of her chest.

' _Mum. Dad. I'm so sorry,'_ was the last thing which shot through her mind before she mercifully lost consciousness.

_Darkness. Blackness. An end to the pain, but not to the terror. She felt herself being pressed down onto the hard floor by that cruel, cruel woman. Her eyes like a serpent, her hair wild as the night. Spiteful, ugly words. Magic shooting through her, setting every nerve on fire with pain._ 'You're lying, you filthy mudblood, and I know it!' _sounded the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange right in her ear as a hand pressed her cheek into the cold floor._ 'You've been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth!'

_'_ Please,' _Hermione heard herself whisper. '_ I didn't take anything!'

'Answer me!' _hissed Bellatrix. '_ CRUCIO!'

Hermione let out a gasp as the sweat-drenched girl sat up straight... in bed? It took the young witch a few moments to catch her bearings and figure out just where she was. She was lying in an almost impossibly soft and comfortable bed in a rather large and opulently decorated room with a high ceiling. Pleasant sunlight poured in through the windows, giving the room a rather cozy atmosphere.

What had happened? Hermione was wearing a nightgown and checked herself for any injuries. Her ribs were not broken and there was no sign of the cigarette burn on her hand. Her skin was clean and felt soft... as if she'd recently been bathed. That torture room on the ship? Had it actually happened or was it just a dream? Where on Earth was she?

The young witch looked to her surroundings and investigated the room. There was an armoire which was empty, a small bathroom and a table with two chairs. The floor was carpeted and there was a pitcher of water with two glasses standing on the table. Last but not least, there was a set of clean clothes neatly folded up on the nightstand.

The first thing Hermione did was to pour herself a glass of water and let the soothing cool liquid slide down her parched throat. The girl closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of having something in her stomach again. Afterwards, she discarded the nightgown and exchanged it for the clothes on the nightstand. There was a set of underwear, women's trousers, a blouse and a vest, all her size and even her favorite colours. The young witch carefully looked out the window, but since the room had a view on a courtyard, there wasn't any clue to where she actually was.

After making use of the dressing room screen to put on the clothes provided for her, she crept towards the door. Hermione had no wand and though she could do some limited wandless magic, she felt helpless without one. She pushed against the door and found it unlocked. Seizing the opportunity she pushed it open as quietly as she could and stepped into the hallway.

The hallway itself was broad, well-lit and the marble floors were lined with walls adorned with wood panels painted white. At the end of the hallway, she could see some marble columns indicative of some sort of open space at the side. Nobody was in the hallway on that side, so Hermione carefully stepped out of the room to explore. When she turned around, however, she almost bumped into one of Bellatrix's trolls.

She gasped and instinctively took a step back. It was wearing the same armor she had seen on the trolls invading Geneva and towered over her while pointing her club in her direction.

' _Great',_ Hermione thought while the troll growled at her. ' _Stunning powers of observation, Hermione. Ron would be proud'._

"Oi!" sounded the troll in a cockney accent. "You ain't su'pose ta be here! Me guard door. Me make sure no one gets in. Me make sure no one gets out. Me no trust you!"

So far, the troll wasn't attacking. This was encouraging. ' _Right, Hermione, you're a diplomat. You can handle this.'_

"Good sir, I apologize," said Hermione while bowing slightly. "I was merely trying to find my way in this strange place."

"Ey?" the troll scratched his head... or rather, his helmet. "You use big words and stuff. Is confusing. Now you go back inside room."

"But," Hermione pointed at the threshold. "I am not in the room. You said nobody is allowed to get in, right?"

"Uuuuuhhh," the troll started chewing on one of his fingers, scrunching up his face while burning off his braincells before drawing a conclusion. "You no enter room! Is not allowed! Nothing to see here! Move along!"

Hermione suppressed a smile and made an overexaggerated bow. "I do apologize, good sir. I will be on my way."

"Is okay," the troll nodded before taking up position next to the door. "Me be good guard!"

Hermione took her leave and hurried into the corridor, hoping to find some sort of clue to where she was. The young witch kept close to the wall and avoided the open areas. Whenever she came across a door, she put her ear against the wood and listened. She either found occupied rooms, offices or locked doors, until she came to an empty sitting room.

Hermione quickly closed the door behind her and studied the room. Several sofas, expensive looking paintings, some sculptures and a bookcase or two. There were three large windows to which she hurried in hopes of finding some sort of clue to where she was. The young witch looked outside and saw a beautiful garden and beyond that garden... water. And beyond the water was a large city.

Fiddlesticks, she was on an island! And what was worse is that she recognized the skyline of the city. It was St. Petersburg. Oh, god, she was in the very heart of the Walpurgis Union.

That would mean... the island she was on was Buyan, an island magically hidden from Muggles which housed a palace once occupied by an impossibly rich Russian pure-blood family. Nowadays, it was the center of government for... oh, no, _she_ would here. Bellatrix.

Her keen mind started working towards escape. This palace, this island, was one of the most heavily defended locations in the Walpurgis Union. That she had not been discovered so far was an astronomical miracle in itself as she could see the patrols in the garden. She had no wand, the distance would be too great to swim and if she could manage to find a boat, she would be easily spotted from any window in the palace. Even if by some miracle, she were to reach the city, they'd be able to pick her up the moment she'd set foot on land.

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. She spun around and pressed her back against the glass, looking around for some sort of weapon. A brown vase on the coffee table would suffice.

"Miss Granger?" sounded a lightly Russian-accented voice from the other side of the door. "We know you're in there. I'm coming in alone, alright?"

A young man with black hair and a smile on his face entered the room. He was wearing a Walpurgis guard uniform and had holstered his wand. True to his word, he stepped in alone though she could briefly see an entire contingent of guards at the door.

"Could you please put down the vase?" spoke the young man. "It is rather expensive."

Hermione warily put down the vase while never breaking eye contact.

"I'm Alexei. Alexei Orlov," said the man. "Honored to be the guard captain for our Lady."

Hermione nodded briefly. "You're not taking to your torture dungeons," the young witch spoke forcefully. "Or I swear I will jump right through this window."

"Please don't do that," said Alexei. "Also, this palace doesn't _have_ torture dungeons."

"Yeah, right!" Hermione scoffed as since instinctively let a hand slide across a recently broken rib.

Alexei held up his hand again. "I promise you, nobody is going to hurt you."

Hermione bristled. "Tell that to the captain of the ship which brought me here! The 'nice lady' who put out a cigarette on my hand!"

"That was a terrible, terrible mistake. I quite understand why you wouldn't trust us," said Alexei. "She _will_ be punished severely for it."

In her days of being a diplomat, Hermione had learned how to read people better. Alexei either was a very good liar or he was being sincere. God, he was younger than she was. Both sides were sending children to war. "Why have you brought me here, then?" Hermione whispered, deciding to trust him for now.

"Our Lady Black wants to see you," said Alexei. "She will explain everything to you."

Her heart pounded in her chest. _Her._ Alexei was taking her to _Bellatrix._ God, her life was over.

"Really," Alexei offered a half-smile. "There's really no place you can run to, miss Granger. Please, just come with me."

* * *

**5th of May 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan Island, Royal Palace.**

Hermione's shoes felt if they were lined with lead as Alexei walked at her side, leading her through the palace. Any other day, she would have enjoyed a tour through a lovely historical building such as this. She could feel the history in the air as she passed through the grand hall where her footsteps echoed. Plenty of wizards and witches wearing neat clothes and uniforms were running around the palace, as they entered the busier areas where the governmental offices were. The center of government for the Walpurgis Union; Snape would have loved to have an active agent on the inside here.

Most heads turned to look at her. This was no surprise, considering she was still known for having fought at Harry's side against Voldemort... and, perhaps more likely, a woman with an armed escort was prone to attract attention.

"You are worried?" asked Alexei. He was a friendly young man, Hermione had to admit as much.

Hermione looked him in the eye and gave him a slight nod. As a diplomat she had learned not to show outright fear, but that was rather difficult being a prisoner.

"Because you're Muggle-born?" Alexei asked. "Don't worry. I am too."

That got Hermione's attention. Before she could question Alexei further about this, they passed a guarded checkpoint in front of ornate double doors. The guards nodded at Alexei and, while the escort continued on, opened the doors for him. Alexei led Hermione to a large adorned room with a high ceiling. Apparently, this was the room in which Bellatrix held court. High ceiling, big tall and open windows with marble statues of wizards and witches amidst banners bearing the crest of House Black. Two empty dual-row stands lined the room on either side and, on a platform at the end of the room, was a tall and ornate gilded throne with red fabric.

And there she was... standing on the platform. Terrible and frightening, Bellatrix was dressed more casually than she had seen her at the conference; a black dress, as usual, and a tunic made from dragon leather. Pale skin, dark eyeshadow, impossibly red lips. Hermione stopped in her tracks and swallowed hard. There was nobody here to protect her from the dark witch, but if she was here to meet her fate, she vowed to do so with her head held high.

However, her resolve already crumbled when she saw Bellatrix turn her head towards her. Intense dark eyes pierced her to her very soul. The young witch raised her chin slightly in an attempt to hide her fear.

"Ah, our guest has arrived, welcome," Bellatrix grinned at her. "Alexei, leave us."

The young guard captain stood at attention and gave Bellatrix a respectful bow before leaving. Hermione pursed her lips when she watched him leave... nobody would stand between her and Bellatrix now.

So focused has she been on Bellatrix that she had completely failed to see the other two persons in the room. One person was Luna, still clad in her black uniform. Seeing Luna there actually made her feel somewhat more at ease. The other person, at Bellatrix's feet on her knees with her hands bound behind her back, was the woman whom had tortured her. A stricken Hermione instinctively took a step back, as memories of the things she either had done to her or had promised to do to her filled her mind.

"Come closer, girl," Bellatrix demanded. "I won't bite... unless you want me to. And the _former_ captain of the ship which carried you to us won't either, now will she?"

Her tone certainly wasn't friendly, but Hermione wasn't in any position to disobey. Though keeping a wary distance, she approached the dark witch.

"Please, my lady," Ludmilla whimpered. "I only wished to serve you!"

"Hah!" Bellatrix threw her head back and let out a cackle. "You were so eager to get to work that you never even double checked your orders. _Unhurt and unspoiled!_ There's very little room for interpretation there!"

Luna's usual soft and flighty voice sounded next to Bellatrix. "I take full responsibility. I should have sent an agent along to safeguard..."

"Do not make excuses for this moron! One thing I will not brook in my officers is incompetence!" Bellatrix roared, causing Hermione to flinch. Her voice cut down to her very soul. "SHE WAS HALF DEAD WHEN WE FOUND HER WITH YOU!"

"I..."

"This isn't the first problem you've caused, _Captain!_ I value commanders who take initiative, yes. But I am _far less_ tolerant of commanders who creatively interpret MY EXPRESS ORDERS!" Bellatrix snapped her head towards Hermione. "You are the wronged party here. It seems more than fair that you get to decide her punishment. Give me your judgment!"

Hermione blinked. What was she asking of her? She looked at Luna, then at Bellatrix, then at the blubbering woman. Ludmilla looked at her with pleading eyes. Such a pathetic little woman, the bully now exposed for what she was. Still, for what she had done to her and countless others, she shouldn't get off lightly.

"Well?" Bellatrix hissed impatiently. "We haven't got all day... Get on with it."

Hermione thought briefly. Since the start of the war, she had been exposed to plenty of cruelties committed by people who eluded any form of punishment for their deeds. Here was her chance to make a difference. The young witch gritted her teeth as memories came flooding back and was about to vent her anger by telling Bellatrix to 'do unto her as she did to me', effectively sending her to the torture rack.

But something didn't feel right. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she was being tested somehow. The dark witch looked at her intently, expecting an answer.

"It's not for me to decide how you discipline your own people," Hermione spoke softly.

"Done," Bellatrix snapped her fingers and two guards came walking in. "Captain Sharapova, in light of your dereliction of duty, you are permanently relieved of command. However, I do wish your accomplishments during the early days of the war to be recognized. You are reduced in rank and will be reassigned to a position more fitting."

The guards helped Ludmilla to her feet and started to escort her out. "Chin up!" Bellatrix called after her. "I hear Siberia is lovely this time of year."

Resigned to her fate, the vile woman bowed her head low and shot Hermione a final intensely hateful glare. Hermione watched on with a pang of regret and a small amount of shame as the guards dragged the woman out of the throne room kicking and screaming. Her gaze once again fell upon Bellatrix and the dark witch seemed... impressed?

"Interesting," Bellatrix crossed her arms and offered her a grin. "For a moment there, I thought you would plead for me to show mercy."

"Perhaps I would have, once," Hermione closed her eyes and turned her head away.

The dark witch seemed satisfied with her answer and started to pace back and forth on the platform. Hermione remained silent as she was unnerved by the lone sound of Bellatrix's heels as they echoed through the room. "By now," the dark witch suddenly spoke. "You must be wondering why you're here."

"The... thought had crossed my mind," Hermione said. "If you're not planning to torture me for information, then why _am_ I here?"

A rather frightening grin crossed Bellatrix's features. Her dark curls danced over her tunic as she continued her pacing; indeed, she was a truly beautiful woman. Beautiful and terrifying. "Snape's ill-fated assassination attempt has left me in a bit of a bind," she spoke. "You see, I rather foolishly thought that something interesting might come out of that little summit you put together. Well, I got my wish as an assassination attempt is by definition interesting, but... it also had the unfortunate side-effect of decimating all my top level diplomats."

Hermione nodded. She'd known all of them quite well. All of them had been hopeful for a resolution she had promised them. "You hold me responsible for their deaths," Hermione concluded. "You want me to stand trial."

"HAH!" Bellatrix threw her head back and let out a laugh. "If I wanted to punish you, my dragon would be feasting on your flesh right now. No, no, no, no, no, what I want from you is something completely different."

Hermione had had enough. Enough of the games, enough of being afraid of this evil woman in front of her. With renewed courage, she took a step forward and looked the woman in the eye. "If you don't want to punish me, then why have you brought me here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I want you to take their place," Bellatrix winked.

Hermione blinked once. Twice. Surely, this vile woman wasn't suggesting... "I won't betray the Phoenix Alliance! I won't betray my friends!"

"Expected reaction," Bellatrix shrugged. "My spymaster told me she expects you to be open to this offer, though. And, to be honest, the times when she's been wrong the past four years can be counted on one hand."

"Spymaster?" Hermione frowned, only to have her eyes grew wide when she turned her head to Luna. "Luna? You are..."

Her former friend offered her an apologetic and slightly goofy smile in response. God, what a mess. How could Luna, her former friend, have fallen so far?

"It was miss Lovegood who convinced me that you have always been sincere in your attempts to make peace," said Bellatrix. "And that you had no knowledge of his ill-fated assassination attempt. Instead of giving her angry glares, you should thank her. If it weren't for her..."

"... your dragon would have been feasting on my flesh right now," Hermione spoke bitterly.

Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously as a woman who was used to getting her way. "I realize that due to that wretch I've just had dragged out of the room, we haven't made the best first impression."

That made Hermione laugh in spite of her fear. "First impression?" she snorted. "Were you worried about making a good first impression when you tortured me on the floor at Malfoy Manor?! Were you worried about making a good first impression when you put a knife to my throat?! Were you worried about making a good first impression when you tried to kill me and my friends at Hogwarts?! Were you worried about making a good first impression when you used me as a human shield just two days ago?! WERE YOU?!"

For a moment, Bellatrix became the deranged insane woman she had known in the past. Her body trembled with rage as her teeth were gritted. Her eyes shone with intensity as her jaw trembled. Hermione closed her eyes and waiting for the killing curse to come and release her from this insanity. But it never came. When Hermione opened her eyes, she found that Bellatrix had unexpectedly calmed down and her wand was still sheathed.

"I'd be disappointed if you wouldn't put up a fight," Bellatrix chuckled and shot her a wink.

"You threatened to blast my head off with a Bombarda spell!" Hermione countered.

The dark witch rolled her eyes. "I was bluffing, of course! Do you honestly think I would shower myself with your blood and bits of brain? That would have ruined my dress!"

Hermione felt her jaw clench in frustration. "I will never work for the Walpurgis Union," she spoke resolutely. "I will not be a traitor!"

Bellatrix put a finger to her lip before cackling briefly. "Why not? She did," replied the dark witch while motioning towards Luna.

That threw off Hermione briefly. "I... I'm a 'mudblood', remember? Inferior. A thief of magic, or whatever nonsense your pure-blood propagandists come up with. I thought you of all people would know better, Luna."

Luna, for her part, shook her head. "You'll find Muggle-borns all over this palace, Hermione. As well as in our army."

"Mudbloods have their place, little... _mudblood_ ," said Bellatrix. "In fact, there's plenty of muddies who've signed up to fight for the Union."

"Really?" Hermione was more than a little skeptical about this. "More like conscripted. And I suppose the slave-labor camps you have locked the Muggle-borns in have a lovely view of the ocean."

An odd look crossed Bellatrix's features. Was it... disappointment? "Is that what you believe? Miss Lovegood spoke very highly of your intelligence and from the stories she told, I certainly didn't expect you to fall for baseless propaganda the Alliance vomits into the world. There are no slave-labor camps for mudbloods. This is about taking back our rightful place in the world. We used to be advisors to kings, landowners, entrepreneurs. But now we've been reduced to hiding ourselves away in dark holes. I want to change all that, and even mudbloods are eager to sign up for this cause."

"Even if that is true, which I doubt," Hermione crossed her arms. "I will never betray my friends like Luna did! Right now, they are risking their lives in Denmark."

"Your little friends are attacking _MY PEOPLE_!" Bellatrix roared in response.

Hermione had to admit that gave her pause. In war, there were always two sides and it was a matter of perspective. Both sides had families, innocents, people caught in the middle. Ron and likely Harry too were in Denmark. Harry and Ron had families, but so had the men and women they were fighting. God... when this war would finally end, there were going to be a lot of angry orphans looking for answers. It reminded her why she had become a diplomat and why she had wanted to end this horrible, stupid war so badly.

But to become indentured to Bellatrix Black? That was too high a price to pay.

"Why would I join you?" said Hermione. "Why would I join a vile and evil woman like you? Why would I join someone who only thinks about herself?!"

Once again, the dark witch's face twisted with rage. But this time, she did fly off the handle. Hermione yelped as the woman shot towards her, wand in hand. Bellatrix grabbed her by the shoulders and violently slammed her into one of the marble columns. She felt the tip of Bellatrix's wand press against her forehead and wondered if her life was over.

"Is that what you think?! That I only care about myself?!" Bellatrix hissed, a hiss that turned into a shriek. "DO YOU THINK I SPENT FOURTEEN YEARS IN AZKABAN BECAUSE I ONLY CARE ABOUT MYSELF?! THAT I GAVE MY HEART, MY LOYALTY AND MY DEVOTION TO A MAN WHO WOULD NEVER LOVE ME BACK BECAUSE I ONLY CARE ABOUT MYSELF?! DO YOU THINK I DID THE THINGS I DID BECAUSE I ONLY CARE ABOUT MYSELF?!"

Hermione whimpered slightly, only to be released. The young witch sank to the ground while the dark witch sheathed her wand and rubbed her forehead slightly. "I'm doing what I'm doing for my people. For wizards and witches everywhere. If anything, I should start caring a little bit _more_ about myself than I do."

The young witch realized her mistake; ' _Antagonizing and insulting your opponent while you know better. What kind of amateur diplomat are you, Hermione?'_

"Truth be told, we are always looking for skilled people," spoke the dark witch. "The Walpurgis Union is very much a meritocracy, little mudblood. Take Luna, for example. She's my spymaster because she has _earned_ her position through her skill and talent. As for you, we know who you are, Hermione Granger. We know that you have a string of diplomatic successes to your name and we also know you are dedicated enough to spend three years of blood, sweat and tears on putting that summit together. The Phoenix Alliance never valued you as much as _we_ will."

Hermione remained silent, unsure of what to say. To betray everything she believed in was unthinkable, but she had to admit that there was something compelling about Bellatrix's honey-filled words.

"Stay at the palace," said Bellatrix. "Get to know us. Take your time. And trust me, you'll have plenty of time to get to know us. You're not going anywhere, little mudblood."

Luna gently grabbed Hermione by the arm and helped her up. "Come," said Luna. "I'll bring you back to your room. You have a lot to think about."

"Please do so," Bellatrix hissed. "I've had quite enough aggravation from her for one day."

Hermione didn't look back when Luna led her out of the throne room and felt massive relief when the doors closed behind her. Still, all things considered, that went very well. She was still alive and, aside from the ludicrous offer, her sanity was relatively intact. On the way to her room, Luna walked besides her in silence.

When they got back to the room she had woken up in, the troll was gone. If anything, that was an indication that she had been given more freedom to roam about the palace.

"This will be your home at the palace," said Luna. "If there's anything you need, we will provide it for you. As you see, the house-elves have already brought you a hearty lunch."

Indeed, there was a nice collection of baked scotch eggs and tortilla wraps on a plate next to the filled tea-pot. Hermione was very hungry, but didn't want to admit that in front of her former friend.

"Do you have any questions?" Luna asked.

"Just one," Hermione replied, turning around to look Luna in the eye. "Why?"

There was no anger in her voice, but she felt tears sting in her eyes. She still remembered where she was when told the news. Hermione had been staying at the Burrow, laughing and trading jokes with Molly and George, when Ron had burst in cursing. The news of Luna's defection had put a damper on an otherwise fun evening. Damn this war...

Luna's smile never wavered, however. "Have you ever looked at a river, Hermione? I mean, really looked?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hermione frowned.

"If you look long enough, hard enough, you'll be able to see not only the currents in the river, but the undercurrents, how the curve of undercurrents reveal rocks hidden underneath the water you normally can't see," said Luna. "I am where I must be, Hermione."

Without another word, Luna gave her a smile and left her alone with her thoughts in this very room, her answer only having given Hermione more questions.


	4. Rain

**2nd of June 2003 – Norwich, United Kingdom – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

Severus Snape often wondered how he had gotten himself in this position. He had certainly never seen himself as a general. In all honesty, he had never expected to actually survive the battle with Voldemort.

And yet here he was, still fighting the war which had started back in the seventies; the scale was just a lot larger than ever before. It was curious, really. Snape had known Bellatrix was decades; she'd always been the obsessed faithful lieutenant. To see her being this successful as a leader was... unexpected.

Certainly, he had a high enough opinion of her to recognize her abilities. She was intelligent, magically gifted and had a forceful personality. However, nobody had ever expected her to be mentally stable enough to actually become a threat. This had been a fatal error in judgment. Bellatrix had changed, that much was certain. But then again, so had he; it had been a long time since his days as a 'humble' potion master at Hogwarts.

Really, he had been there at the right time in the right place. When the emergent Bellatrix came storming into Europe out of nowhere, overwhelmed and frightened Ministries of the remaining free nations begged for a savior. And _he_ had stepped to the plate. Thankfully, the idiot politicians had actually listened to him at the time.

The Walpurgis Union's powerbase was military and magical might, relying on sheer numbers to conquer and occupy. This is a tactic which had started working against them as their territory expanded; the Union had been forced to spread their troops thinner and thinner, as was witnessed by current events.

Snape stepped to the map of Europe on his desk. He was alone in his sizable office, enjoying his solitude and poured himself a glass of fire-whiskey as he looked at the drawn battle lines. While the main bulk of Bellatrix's shock troops were busy in Switzerland, Snape had the Alliance focus their attention on Denmark instead. Most of the country was already under Alliance control, and while there was still heavy fighting going on in Copenhagen, he expected the country to fall before the end of the week.

Snape was getting some political heat over this decision to ignore the desperate pleas of the Swiss Ministry. But as far as he was concerned, Bellatrix had made a rash and prideful decision which he could exploit. Let her have that useless country; when Denmark falls, not only would the Alliance have taken one of the founding members of the Walpurgis Union, but he would have a springboard right into Sweden.

Yes, Snape might lack Bellatrix's charisma, but he fought this war with more than just military might. Clever tactics, trickery, assassinations and blackmail were his main weapons. Not to mention a steady stream of lies and propaganda to keep everybody on his side focused on the fight. And so the entire world had become one massive game of wizard chess. One he couldn't afford to lose.

Where Voldemort had inspired fear, Bellatrix inspired loyalty. To Snape, that mind-boggling concept was as much a paradox as one and one equaling three and very much indicative of how much she had changed. He had no idea what happened to her after their encounter at Hogwarts, but as far as he was concerned, she was more dangerous than ever before. What Bellatrix wanted was nothing less than the exposure of the wizarding world to the Muggles and that made her even more reckless than Voldemort had ever been. The Dark Lord merely sought to rule the wizarding world for his own gain. Bellatrix sought to doom it forever... and to think her delusions had popular support!

He took a sip from his fire-whiskey, letting the liquid slide down his throat. His next thoughts were of Potter's accusation of him and his friend being his tools.

Of course they were.

They were resources, nothing more. Miss Granger had been of particular use to him especially. The girl had developed into a clever and driven diplomat and he had managed to sneak an agent into her conferences in more than one occasion. Since miss Granger often went into enemy territory to put out small brushfires, it was the perfect opportunity for covert assignments on clandestine meetings. Miss Granger had never been the wiser, of course.

Though he had to admit that the young woman was a genius, she had never stopped being an insufferable know-it-all. In fact, she had become quite dangerous as she held on to the naive belief that there was some sort of middle ground to find between the Phoenix Alliance and the Walpurgis Union. There was none. In this ideological conflict, the only way to win was for one side to completely annihilate the other. And neutrals? They would be forced to make a choice sooner or later.

Oh, yes, Snape knew why he had gotten himself into this mess. He had to finish the job he had started to long ago. To save the wizarding world from itself.

He owed it to Lily.

* * *

**2nd of June 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan Island, Royal Palace**

Hermione Granger had been a prisoner in this gilded cage for over three weeks now. In that time, she had been thinking of a myriad of plans to escape, but all of them would be doomed to failure. Sure, she was able to move freely through many parts of the palace and would be free to interact with the people working and living there. She'd even spent some time reading in the garden to occupy her troubled mind. But at the same time, her movements were very much restricted to the public areas and she was being constantly watched. Whenever she got near one of the restricted areas of the palace like the war room, the owlry or the armory, there was always a guard who would politely yet firmly shoo her away.

Once she had been able to get her hands on a wand. One of the office workers had been careless and left it on his desk, from which Hermione had managed to swipe it. She had just stuffed it down her coat's inner pocket when she heard the scraping of a throat behind her. A guard expended her hand, and with a sigh, Hermione had handed over her hard-earned prize before she'd been able to use it. More worrying, however, was that she had not seen that office worker since that day. Guards she was friendly with assured her that the man had just been let go due to his carelessness, but Hermione still felt guilty about it.

Three weeks she had been here now. And slowly she had started to interact with more people here.

There were absolutely no signs of an oppressive dictatorship. Everybody she had spoken with was friendly and only too eager to tell about their homes, jobs or relatives. Ironically, they all told her how happy she must be to escape from the 'oppressive regime' of the Alliance nations. All-in all, she had experienced a few eye-openers. Even as a diplomat who was allowed restricted travel in enemy territory, she had had no inkling of how the people actually felt about being part of the Union. Naturally, Hermione knew better than to believe the Alliance propaganda that the Walpurgis Union were filled with the evil and vile people. The people who worked at the palace were much like the people she'd worked with her entire life. The world wasn't clearly divided between good and evil. If only. That would make living in this world easier.

A small mercy was that she had only caught a single glimpse of Bellatrix the past weeks.

Hermione usually ate alone in her room, but had slowly started to be more among the people of the palace and thus came to the spacious cafeteria at lunch and dinner time. Still, she preferred to eat her food alone at her own table. There were always people at the cafeteria, yet her eyes only fell on one person; Luna. Every day, she sat at the same table at the window, at the same times and she never actually ate anything. Hermione still had so many questions for her, but had been unwilling to approach her. Perhaps today would be the day.

"Mind if I join you?" sounded next to her. Hermione, of course, recognized the voice as belonging to Alexei. The young guard captain smiled at her; of all the people here, it was Alexei who was always eager to talk to her. It helped her maintain some semblance of sanity.

Hermione gave him a brief smile and a nod. The young man sat down and clapped his hands. Immediately, his order lunch came flying towards the table on an enchanted tray. It stopped short above their table and spun around while landing right in front of him.

"So, how goes the great escape?" Alexei asked.

Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Should I tell you?" she replied.

Alexei shrugged. "I'll be able to read all about it in the guard reports. But I'd rather hear it from you yourself."

"Fine," Hermione shrugged and placed her elbows on the table. "I almost managed to get a message out to my friend Harry by owl. I went into the quartermaster's office under the guise of getting a new inkwell and swapped an order form for new quills with a message to Harry when he had his back turned to me. Unfortunately, it was discovered before it was sent out."

"That was clever," said Alexei.

"And I am banned from yet another location in the palace," sighed Hermione. "I'm fast running out of options."

"At least you're keeping my people sharp," said Alexei. "Don't worry, they're not angry. They love a challenge and you're certainly a handful."

"Well," Hermione allowed a brief smile. "At least they're being good sports about it."

"I hear our Lady made you a fantastic offer," said Alexei. "May I ask why you're so reluctant to accept it?"

"Let's just say that your Lady and I have a history together. One I wouldn't care to repeat," replied Hermione. Her own food now arrived, hovering on the tray for a moment before it put itself down. Orange juice, and roast beef with yorkshire pudding. A hearty British lunch. But what was most impressive was that the Ukranian witch serving the food could make yorkshire pudding that well.

Both Hermione and Alexei ate their food over their continuing conversation.

"Why do you follow Bellatrix Black?" asked Hermione. "Really, why? You're Muggle-born and she's always stated how much she hates Muggle-borns. And the things she's done in the past under Voldemort..."

"We all have a past," said Alexei. "And Lady Black has always been honest and up-front about hers. If there's one problem with the wizarding world is that far too many of us are stuck in the past and unwilling to look towards the future."

Her fork pierced a slice of beef which found its way to Hermione's mouth. After chewing and swallowing, Hermione could only agree. "Oh, believe me, I've wondered as much myself."

Alexei seemed thoughtful for a moment. "My mother raised me and my three sisters on her own. I am the only wizard in the family. We lived in a small community named Sluditsy south of St. Petersburg. You've probably never heard of it, but it's surrounded by bears and rusalki in the forest. I was in my last year at public magic academy in Moscow when I got word that my mother had passed on."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione replied with sympathy on her voice. "Was this because of the war?"

"No, it happened just before," said Alexei. "I pleaded with the Ministry for either a job or support, but they gave neither. But then, our Lady came. Out of nowhere. Historians are still trying to piece it together, but she and her few loyal troops led a coup which overthrew our Ministry. Not that the Russian wizards were all that mournful about losing some of the apparatchiki, mind you. Massive changes came, but lady Black kept all her promises to us. And I now have a job so my sisters are well provided for. Why do I follow lady Black? Because I owe her everything. And many others do to."

Hermione nodded in silence. She could quite understand how Alexei would feel he owed Bellatrix. "I was about to leave the wizarding world forever. To find my parents," said Hermione. "Years ago, I altered their memories to keep them safe from Voldemort and his followers. I wanted to find them, to undo it, to have them back. They don't even remember having me."

She didn't quite know why she told Alexei. Perhaps it was because he had a trustworthy face? Or perhaps because they were both Muggle-born? Or just because she needed someone to share it with? In any case, she hadn't given any of the details so she wasn't worried. Besides, what did it matter now? Escape from his place got increasingly more hopeless by the day.

"I see your eyes darting towards our spymaster every so often," said Alexei.

Hermione herself had been particularly aware of this, but seeing the subject had been breached she decided to lean forward. "How much do you know about her?"

Alexei rubbed his chin. "I've only been here for a year, but some of the others know more. Miss Lovegood suddenly appeared at the palace doors one day. Nobody knows how and she isn't telling. She got past the security without tripping any of our wards and if she hadn't announced herself, nobody would have even known she was there."

"Huh," Hermione bit her lip.

"Anyway, she was dragged in front of Lady Black and she told our Lady that she wanted to join her cause," said Alexei. "Naturally, Lady Black was skeptical."

"Right."

"So miss Lovegood proved herself by ferreting out an entire Nixie spy network close to the government," said Alexei. "She fingered them one by one with damning evidence to back up her claims. One of the spies had just been hired as our previous spymaster's secretary, right under our noses. So, long story short, Lady Black fired the spymaster on the spot and gave his job to miss Lovegood. I hear she's pretty much free to act independently these days."

Hermione nodded. "But what do you think of her... personally, I mean."

"Well," said Alexei. "She's part of Lady Black's inner circle, right? They and other high-ups have their own VIP dining hall on the other side of the palace. They don't really mingle all that much. Lady Black herself dines in her private wing for security reasons, obviously, but the others don't have that excuse. Miss Lovegood comes down to the trenches. I don't know, but I just see that as having character."

Alexei and Hermione chatted for a bit longer about more mundane subjects; growing in Muggle Russia as opposed to Muggle London. When their food had been finished and the crockery was magically flown back to waiting receptacles for cleaning, the two of them said their goodbyes.

Hermione almost left the cafeteria. Almost.

The young witch closed her eyes. She had to do it. She had to know more. The turned on her heels and slowly but surely made her way to Luna's table. Luna had yet to order food, but shot her a brief smile when she saw her approach.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna greeted in her usual pleasant voice.

"Luna," Hermione nodded as she sat down at the table. An awkward, pregnant pause followed when both parties waited for the other to speak. In the end, it was Luna who broke the silence.

Her platinum blonde former friend never broke her smile. "You're right on schedule, you know?"

"Pardon?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Three weeks," said Luna. "I was expecting you to take at least three weeks before you'd come to talk to me."

"Really?" Hermione frowned.

"Yes, really," Luna nodded cheerfully.

"I see you here every day," said Hermione. "You barely eat. Why are you even here?"

"People."

"People?"

"Yes, people," said Luna. "I like watching people. There's so much you can learn from just looking." Luna pointed out two persons, a man and a woman, talking rather animatedly. "The woman is named Yulia, a girl from accounting. The man is named Boris, one of the guards. I've been watching their relationship blossom for months. Boris used to be a really gruff and unlikable individual, having lost his brother in the war, but ever since he's met Yulia he has become much happier. Yulia, however, is having some problems right now. She's pregnant, but doesn't know how to breach the subject with Boris just yet."

Hermione looked over her shoulder. It just seemed like two people having lunch to her. "Have you been doing background checks on them? Does Bellatrix have her very own KGB equivalent now?"

"KGB?" Luna frowned. "I've heard the term, but I'm not sure what that is. But to answer your question, no. All I have done is to watch them eat. Now, take that man for example."

Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw a burly African man sitting alone at the table. "That is Debrickshaw Odigwe from Mozambique. He is a representative of his Ministry, sent to broker a possible entry into the Walpurgis Union as a state with home rule. He doesn't feel at home here, is often cold and fears Bellatrix. He's been here for some time now since our high level diplomats are all dead and Bellatrix is unwilling to start negotiations without them. He doesn't like the uncertainty."

Hermione crossed her arms. "And what do you see when you look at me?"

"No, no, no, that would be telling."

"Of course," Hermione nodded. "I'm starting to see why you became a spymaster."

"It's all about pattern recognition, taking note of people and places. Coincidences which are not coincidences. Interpreting the data. For example, did you know you had an assassin among your diplomatic entourage?" Luna spoke, never breaking her smile.

Hermione blinked. "What?! That's preposterous!"

"Is it? You and your entourage were given free access to Walpurgis nations four times in 2002. Gothenburg, Sweden in February. Tampere, Finland in March. Moscow, Russia in September and Cairo, Egypt in November. All four times, the presence of you and your attaches coincided with the sudden death of a prominent Walpurgis politician or military officer."

Hermione shook her head. "That can't be true. We... I was sent there to try to save lives by stopping useless brush-fires from getting out of control. We didn't go there to kill people."

"If you think I am deceiving you, these dates and deaths can all be easily double-checked with public records. Honestly, didn't you find it suspect that there was an assassination attempt on Antonin Dolohov in Moscow during the same three days you and your entourage were there to discuss the lifting of a trade embargo of potions?"

"How could that possibly be related?" said Hermione. "The lifting of that embargo has made it easier to deliver supplies to wounded civilians. Both sides benefited from this!"

"Yes," said Luna. "But as head of the military sphere, Antonin Dolohov was required to sign the agreement. And he fell ill shortly after touching the parchment. He is lucky to be alive, really, and so are we all. His loss would have been a tremendous blow to the Union."

That statement made Hermione's blood run cold. How could this even be possible. No... no, she could be lying to her. ' _Trust, but verify_ ', Hermione thought to herself. She'd have to take a look at those public records, if only to dispel this ludicrous accusation.

"So. Spymaster, then," said Hermione, eager to change the subject. "You sound like you enjoy your role."

"Yes. Though I did have to downplay the role of the Rotfang conspiracy in the war. They have their hands in everything, really, but I fear I cannot make that credible in my official reports," Luna said, sounding a bit bitter about it. At least it was good to know that Luna still had the same flights of fantasy she had when they had both been students at Hogwarts.

"How have you been, Hermione?" Luna asked. "What have you been up to other than trying to save the world through diplomacy?"

Hermione cocked her head sideways.

"Don't worry, none of this is being recorded in any way," said Luna. "Just two friends talking."

Though Hermione didn't trust Luna as far as she could throw her, there really wasn't much to tell. "Nothing much," said Hermione. "The past few years, I've lived for my work. I've never had much time for anything else. I'm traveling so much that I don't even own a proper home back in the UK."

She wasn't kidding when she said she lived for her work. She forged relationships, but she didn't really have any real friends outside of Harry, Ron and a handful of people she had met at Hogwarts. Never having had time for any romantic entanglements, it was a lonely but rewarding existence.

"What about you?" Hermione asked, eager for a change of subject.

"Being spymaster is rather rewarding," said Luna. "I miss my father, of course, but... I hope he understands why I did what I did."

Hermione crossed her arms. "And why did you do what you did? You've never given me a clear answer."

"What if you know something," Luna said. "Something terrible. But nobody would believe you if you told them, because they simply couldn't comprehend the implications?"

Hermione snorted. "Isn't that usual for you?" Honestly, she hadn't meant to be so direct, but Luna just could be so damn evasive at the best of times. Hermione looked up and was slightly startled to see Luna's smile gone. In fact, there was a dead serious expression on her face with an intensity to her eyes which was startling.

"What would _you_ do?" Luna asked.

Hermione thought for a moment, while avoiding Luna's steely gaze. "I think I'd try to do research, gather evidence, analyze my findings. Make it so that I have something to back my claims."

Luna's smile returned tenfold.

"Is that why you're here?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I have learned that I am a really good spymaster," said Luna.

"Never a straight answer from you, hm?" Hermione sighed.

"That would be boring," replied Luna.

* * *

**2nd of June – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan Island, Hermione's quarters**

Right, the first thing to do was to dispel this ludicrous accusation that one of her diplomatic attaches was, in fact, an assassin. Loony Lovegood. That name was more poignant than ever with her crazy conspiracy theories surrounding nonexistent creatures or organizations.

This was where being in the administrative heart of the Walpurgis Union had its perks. Though she wasn't privy to classified information for obvious reasons, all she had to do to get her hands on publicly available information was to fill out a requisition form with Artyom, the local librarian whom she had befriended. Not even an hour later, a group of house-elves brought her records, newspaper articles and official documents from all over the Union.

She started with Gothenburg. She had been there to facilitate the extradition of an ex-death eater whom had fallen out of favor with Bellatrix and was still wanted for crimes against humanity in the UK. It was a rather simple negotiation, so she had brought only two aides and enjoyed visiting the city. Most curious, however, was the sudden death of Mayor Krumben, an ardent Walpurgis supporter who had strong ties to the Swedish Ministry. Apparently, he had choked to death on a Swedish meatball of all things.

Coincidence. Sheer coincidence.

Tampere in Finland then. She had been sent there on a fact-finding mission on the supposed mistreatment of Alliance prisoners of war, only to find that the Finnish wizards were treating them with the utmost of respect and care. She had interviewed several of the prisoners under the influence of veritaserum and found the situation in the camp satisfactory. Curiously, though, Sepho Koistinen, a respected Finnish auror, had been found floating in the river after apparently having drunk too much while she and her group were there.

Coincidence.

Cairo... She and her aides had went there while there was fighting going on along the coast between Walpurgis and Alliance forces. The Egyptian ministry wanted assurances that Alliance forces wouldn't risk damaging any of the Egypt's cultural heritage and, in return, promised that no Walpurgis troops would be stationed anywhere near them. During the time she and her aides were there, Claudia Hawass, head mistress of Cairo's Academy of Ancient Magical Research and a master of the Dark Arts whom had been researching attack spells for the Union, had been savaged by a cursed mummy which had mysteriously escaped from its sealed casket.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably when she started to realize that this might be more than just a coincidence.

She already knew about Dolohov and the problems with the apparently poisoned treaty from Luna. How could this be? Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think back to find a commonality between these four different occasions. Her thoughts were a bit blurry, seeing she had been to so many different conferences and met so many different people.

Then it hit her.

Otthild Bauer.

She was a diplomatic trainee from Germany. This was not strange in itself as it wasn't unusual for Hermione to bring trainees along to gain some experience and help them build their network by laying contacts with people from other nations. What _was_ strange, however, was that Otthild had never actually been scheduled to join her. All four times that she had come along she'd been a last minute replacement for other trainees whom had fallen ill or could not attend for various reasons.

Four times a last minute addition.

Four assassinations.

It made her blood run cold. She remembered Otthild as somewhat of a flake who spent more time out in the cities they were visiting rather than with the conferences themselves. And she was starting to realize why.

She wrote down some dates of earlier conferences, earlier meetings in Walpurgis terrority in 2001 and 2000. After filling in a requisition form, she impatiently waited for more documents to arrive. And what she learned shocked her to her very core; during every single one of the conferences she held, there was either an assassination, some sort of theft or sabotage which coincided with their presence there. Nobody had put two and two together... until now.

Hermione closed her eyes, grit her teeth and let out a cry of anger while sweeping the gathered documents off the table. The books and records landed on the floor with dull thuds as Hermione started to hyperventilate.

Had she been used? All that time she thought she was helping to resolve the conflict, was she just making it worse?

It didn't take her long to figure out who the puppetmaster behind this mockery must have been. Worst thing was that removing key people was a sound strategy for the war effort but... this was exactly the kind of shit that Voldemort and his followers had lowered themselves to! Still, Hermione didn't think she should be surprised; Snape had been one of those followers at one time, after all. He had learned from the best.

She had to get out of the room, out of the place. Clean air, clear skies. She wanted to shout, curse and cry all the same time. Hermione stormed into the hallway, and damn anyone who got in her way.

Red flashed in front of her as tears stung her eyes. She passed some figure, then another, picking up the pace. She rounded about the corner on her way towards the garden and fresh hair, but as she did so, she bumped into a black-clad figure.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Hermione shouted.

Unfortunately for her, the person she had just ordered to piss off was Bellatrix Black.

The dark witch gave her a rather incredulous look. Hermione was too angry to be scared, too upset to think straight. She looked the dark witch right in the eye. "You're used to getting your way, aren't you? And yet here is a little mudblood who doesn't bend to your will. This must be so frustrating for you!"

In response, Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. A dangerous light shining in them, the dark witch let out a shriek, dug her talons into Hermione's shoulders and roughly slammed her back against the wall. Her face was right up against hers. Hermione could feel her dark eyes piercing her to her soul, could feel the warmth of her breath, could smell the scent of her perfume. "You _do_ realize," Bellatrix hissed in an eerie voice, reminding Hermione of a snake about to strike hard. "That if you had spoken to me like that five years ago, you'd be very, VERY dead right now, little girl."

It was only now that Hermione realized just what she had done. ' _Hermione Granger just_ had _to pull the tiger by the tail. How diplomatic...'_

"My patience has limits!" Bellatrix hissed. "And you are fast running out of chances."

The young witch gulped and only now realized just how terrified she was. "If you're going to kill me, just do it," Hermione whimpered. "Just end it."

Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "Are you really that eager to die?" she said, and with one swift move drew her wand and pressed the tip against her forehead. "Say when..."

Hermione closed her eyes and whispered softly. "No. I don't want to die."

"Well, if you feeling a bit upset about all the freedom of movement I've given you, I can always house you in a small damp cell in the basement," said Bellatrix. "Is that what you want?"

Again, Hermione shook her head. "No."

"Then be a little bit more grateful for all the nice things I've given you," Bellatrix sheathed her wand while raising her chin imperiously. "Say 'thank you, auntie Bella. Thank you so much for being so nice to me'."

Hermione hesitated for a moment.

"SAY IT!" Bellatrix shrieked in her face. "NOW!"

"Thank you, a-auntie B-bella," Hermione whispered.

"And?" Bellatrix grinned wickedly.

"Thank you s-so much for b-being so nice to me," Hermione stammered. All things considered, her treatment could have been a lot worse and she _had_ provoked Bellatrix just now. She was enough of a diplomat to know that now was the time to eat crow and take the hit.

"There, there," Bellatrix mock-pouted. "Was that so hard?"

The dark witch grabbed a stricken Hermione's face by both cheeks and roughly kissed her on the forehead. After patting her on the cheek once, Bellatrix turned her back to her and started walking down the stairs.

"Nice to see you having some backbone, girl. Pity it didn't last long. Try to do better next time," Bellatrix said without looking back at her. She raised her hand and waggled her fingers. "Toodles!"

Hermione was left standing with her back pressed against the wall, watching the dark witch leave. Despite all the freedom of movement she had been given, she was still at the mercy of this madwoman. She felt as if she had been locked into a cage with a hungry tiger and was just waiting for the moment until it would take a bite out of her.


	5. Dragonchaser

**12th of June 2003 – Copenhagen, Denmark – Ruined wizarding quarter**

Harry Potter made his way through the smoldering ruins of what once had been a pleasant shopping street. He passed the burned-out husk of a toyshop and stopped for a moment to gaze upon a broken marionette. This store used to make children happy; it'd be a long, long time before it would again.

Fallen plaster cracked under his shoes as he made his way through the rest of the ruins, slaloming around fallen debris. Miraculously, the Muggles were none the wiser and were blissfully unaware of all the fighting among them, despite the fact that this shopping street was in the middle of Copenhagen's busiest Muggle tourist area. A contingent of UK obliviators would take care of those whom had noticed; business as usual. At least they could cover up the messes the Wallies left behind.

Harry made his way along the street until he came to a square. A dried fountain was in the middle of the square, and all shops around it looked to be either burned out of collapsed. A large and heavy stone column from the fountain had cracked and fallen down to the side. Harry paused a moment when he saw coagulated blood pooled around the edges.

"Ron?" he called out. The other aurors said Ron had stayed behind, but where could he be? When he passed a pub which was in somewhat of a reasonable state, he poked his head through the blasted doorway. "Ron, are you there?"

"Over here, mate," sounded Ron's slightly slurry voice. Harry stepped inside and found overturned tables, shattered glass and a bar covered with debris. At the very end of it, sat Ron. His friend was surrounded by several bottles and held a glass as he sat slumped over of the bar. Though Harry had not been to Copenhagen, Ron had been in the thick of the invasion since day one.

"First time I've ever been in Copenhagen," said Ron. "Great, huh?"

The bitterness on his voice was thick and hard-hitting. His friend offered Harry a glass and poured in some fire-whiskey. "The wallies made their last stand right over there," he pointed out to a building which had once been a simple post-office. "Once we drove them out of the Ministry, they dug in across this street. Kept fighting till the last man. There were three of them outside of the building, behind some make-shift cover. A stray hit slammed against the big pillar of the fountain and it fell down right on top of them. I can't get the image out of my head, Harry. Merlin's stinkin' arse, they were younger than I am, Harry! Kids! Why didn't they just surrender?!"

Harry nodded grimly and took a sip from his drink. "We wouldn't have surrendered either, Ron."

"They were just kids," slurred Ron as he closed his eyes. "Two boys, a girl. About our age when we defeated Voldemort. I... I tried to save them, Harry."

Harry nodded grimly. "I know you tried, Ron."

"They weren't evil. They were just three kids defending their home! Nothing makes sense anymore," said Ron. "Remember back in the day when we had all the good people on one side and all the Death Eaters on the other? Seemed so much simpler."

"Denmark is ours," said Harry. "For as long as we can hold it."

"So, yeah. A great victory for the 'good guys'. For all the fat lot of good it will do," Ron spoke bitterly. "Have you heard from Hermione?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "She's still in Australia looking for her parents. She said she'll be in touch when she's found them, but that might take a while yet."

"It's just not the same without her," Ron replied. "Still, I can't blame her for wanting out. Hell, Hermione has the right idea. Running away sounds pretty damn good right now."

That made Harry grin slightly. "Where'd you go, Ron?"

"Fiji!" Ron spoke resolutely.

"Fiji?!" Harry snorted. "What on Earth would you do on Fiji?"

"Start a dragon farm or something."

"A dragon farm on Fiji?!" Harry shook with laughter. "Ron, you're daft."

"Well," snorted Ron. "It's better than sitting here getting pissed."

The two friends laughed together in a shared moment of much needed camaraderie. Ron grinned and raised his glass. "To Hermione. The only one of us with enough brains to actually get out of this mess while she still could."

"To Hermione," said Harry. Glass on glass sounded through the ruined cafe. Harry hoped that Hermione was alright and happy, wherever she was right now.

* * *

**16th of July 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Forest of Tayna**

Having been on this island for almost two months now, Hermione had learned that aside from the Palace there was a large magical forest as well. This had renewed her hopes of finding a way to escape her predicament. The guards didn't mind her going into the forest, but had advised her to remain within shouting distance of the palace.

Good advice which she, of course, ignored. The past few weeks, Hermione had been exploring the forest and had started to put together map as she methodically crossed through it. The most interesting thing she had discovered so far was that the forest was much larger than the island itself. This wasn't strange, since this was often the case with magical forests, but it made her wonder what would be out here to discover. During her trips to the forest, she had already discovered several abandoned houses. Nothing to be had so far, but perhaps she could get lucky and find a broom or even a wand.

A few days back she had actually found the remains of a wizarding village at least centuries abandoned. Though nature had almost completely reclaimed it, the stone husks of a once cozy and pleasant village stood vigil for villagers which would never return. It had made Hermione wonder what had caused the wizards to leave their home; though the village was an interesting find, anything she could use had either long been taken or spoiled by now.

Today's trip into the forest had taken her further out than she ever had before. Hermione was careful to mark the trees with a piece of chalk and kept adding to her map so that she could find her way back. Thankfully, however, though the forest was thick and the trees were tall, it was a lot more pleasant than the Forbidden Forest was. Looking up, she could see the midday sun breaking through the canopy. As it was summer and warm, Hermione had removed her jumper and tied the arms around her waist. The young witch wiped the sweat from her brow and took a swig from the plastic canteen she had brought with her.

She sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree and let her thoughts drift to the war she had been caught up in. At its core, after having stripped off all the propaganda, lies, politics and posturing, it was a purely ideological conflict. The Walpurgis Union wanted to make a place in the world for wizards to be who they are, rejecting the limitations the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy imposed upon them. In contrast, the Phoenix Alliance held on to the Statute with an iron grip, still fearing the dangers Muggles could pose. Hermione supposed both sides were traditionalists in a sense; the Union wanting to go back to the old days before the Statute, and the Alliance fearing any change in the status quo.

Tradition. It's a mug's game.

Hermione wiped the sweat from her brow; it was getting rather hot in the forest. It would be time to return soon, but she heard water in the distance. She wanted to investigate first. If it was clean fresh water, she might splash her face for some much needed cooling down while stretching the precious drinking water in her canteen a bit longer.

Soon enough, Hermione found herself at a large lake in a clearing. It was a very idyllic picture, and the waterfall pouring into the small lake added to the compelling image. However, the moment she stepped into the clearing, she had the rather uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. The young witch looked around to see if there was somebody around, but saw no one.

"Hello?" Hermione called out warily. "Is someone there?"

A series of giggles sounded, and Hermione gasped when she saw three faces breaking the surface of the water. Emerging from the water were three very beautiful and very naked women. They giggled and smiled at her, while drops of water ran down their perfect bodies. The young witch felt a blush creep over her cheeks, but found herself unable to look away. The women sang to her, a song that turned her brain into mush... a haze came over her. This... this is what love at first sight had to be like. These three beautiful women... they wanted her. They wanted to be with her. They wanted her to be with them forever.

Her entire body tingled as the three lovely women sang promises of endless pleasures within their eternal embrace. Hermione smiled warmly; why not? Why shouldn't she do it? She's been working so long for others. What about herself? Didn't she deserve to love and be loved? It was... hard to think about other things, her eyes locking on the beautiful women.

Hermione took a step forward as the three women giggled and beckoned her to join them in the water. Closer and closer.

So close that she could see their eyes turn jet-black. So close that she could see their yellowed, pointed teeth. So close that she could see their warm smiles twist into eager, hungry grins. _'Be with us'_ , she heard the whispers in her mind. _'Love us. FEED US!'_

Magical energy cleft through the air as a bolt of power shot past her and slammed into the water. Hermione's haze lifted and gasped when she finally saw the monsters for what they were. The young witch fell back near the waterside and kicked her legs out to keep from their grasp. Three hideously deformed creatures, with ashen dead skin, matted hair, jagged teeth and elongated limbs ending in wicked claws let out a mournful wail and sank into the depths below.

Hermione caught her breath and looked in the direction from which the bolt had come. There, amid the trees, stood Bellatrix Black, her wand held at the ready. Hermione quickly got to her feet and put some distance between her and the lake.

"Good afternoon, mudblood," Bellatrix grinned. "Out for a walk?"

"Don't call me that!" Hermione snapped, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins as she was trying to make sense of what had just happened to her.

"But it's what you are," Bellatrix pouted like a five-year old. "Anyway, nice little girls like you shouldn't be playing with the Rusalki. They'll give you plenty of love-bites... literally."

Rusalki? Was that what those creatures were? Hermione wasn't quite up to snuff with her Russian folklore, but rusalki were supposed to be some sort of water nymph related to sirens and merfolk. Flesheaters who lured men to their doom... women too, it seemed.

"You really shouldn't be out into the forest this far without a wand," Bellatrix said. "This place is crawling with them. Though it might be amusing to watch them tear you to shreds, I have other plans for you."

"Then give me a wand!" Hermione snapped.

"Ah, ah, ah," grinned Bellatrix while putting the tip of her wand to her lips. "Nice try, little mudblood, nice try..."

Hermione could only rub her temples and sighed heavily. With flesh-eating Rusalki in the forest, that was another escape route cut off. Great. What options were left?

"Come," said Bellatrix. "Follow me. And don't even think about running or I will drag you back kicking and screaming if I have to. Either that, or the Rusalki will get you and skin you alive, whatever happens first."

Knowing better than to go against the wishes of this unstable dark witch and not feeling confident enough to take on an unknown number of flesh-eating monsters without magic, Hermione resigned herself to her fate and stepped alongside Bellatrix as they strolled through the forest. Oddly enough, she felt a little safer with Bellatrix around; she could still feel the eyes of the monsters upon her. Without Bellatrix there, she was certain she would be devoured.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, little mudblood?" Bellatrix asked as the two walked together. There was a playful tone on Bellatrix's voice and Hermione didn't like that one bit.

"Such as?" Hermione offered.

"A rusalka usually only attacks men," Bellatrix smirked as if she knew something Hermione didn't. "There needs to be a physical attraction already there for them to exploit or their seductive magics won't work. And, little mudblood, it looked to me as if you were getting very much exploited back there."

"What are you suggesting?" Hermione snapped. Certainly this vile woman couldn't be suggesting what she thought she was suggesting.

The vile woman's lips curled upwards in a twist of a smile. Dark curls rolled over her back when she let out a hearty cackle. "Oh, little mudblood," Bellatrix chuckled. "You are so, so innocent. It's endearing, really."

The cheeky grin and the mocking cackle caused the young witch to bristle slightly. God, was it this woman's only goal in life to torture her? The dark witch at her side kept laughing at her, especially when she almost tripped over a branch.

"Keep up," said Bellatrix. "Rusalki move fast. No doubt they'll try to separate you from me to get a second shot at seducing you."

"They're still around?"

"You don't see them? There, up in the trees, in front of us," Bellatrix pointed ahead and, indeed, there they were. Three hideously deformed creatures, their skin as gnarled as the bark of the tree they occupied as they lay draped over the branches. They looked upon her with baleful, hungry eyes. Instinctively, Hermione stepped a little closer to Bellatrix.

"That's the spirit," said Bellatrix. "Eyes on me, not on the monsters."

As the two continued through the forest, Hermione didn't quite recognize the path. Certainly there weren't any marked trees either. As the path sloped upwards, Hermione was certain this was not the right way. "This... this isn't the path to the palace," Hermione spoke carefully.

"Well spotted, girl," Bellatrix said.

"Where are you taking me?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, you'll see."

Though the gleeful way she had given that answer didn't exactly fill the young witch with confidence, it was still a better choice than being seduced and eaten by flesh-eating fiends. Hermione followed Bellatrix, never losing sight of the forest around her. Eventually, they came to a cliffside. A large rocky area open to the elements with what looked like a steep drop into the ocean fifty foot below. As she could see the open sea of the Gulf of Finland, this had to be the other side of the island. The sea wind whipped through Hermione's hair and she wondered why Bellatrix had brought her here. Then, she saw bones on the ground.

"Stand still," Bellatrix ordered, her voice low. "And don't make any sudden movements."

Hermione was about to ask why she shouldn't make any sudden movements when a shadow crossed over them from the sky. She looked up and gasped when she was the massive green and muscular frame of a dragon coming in for a landing.

Conflicted between standing still and running into the forest for dear life, Hermione decided on the former as the dragon prepared to touch down hind-legs first. The ground shook when the massive creature landed and Hermione could see just how big it was. Muscles rippled under green scaled hide as the dragon slowly moved its folded wings forward to inspect the two humans intruding on its roost. Its tail was as thick as a tree-trunk, its claws were like daggers. The head was crested with horns and its mouth was opened slightly, revealing a terrifying row of teeth. Its eyes told a different story, however, as it seemed more curious than angry.

The dragon itself was a tad smaller and slimmer than the dragon Harry had out-smarted during the tri-wizard tournament so long ago. She wasn't knowledgeable enough in the field of draconology to determine the species, but as wild dragons tended to migrate in search of hunting territories to claim, it could be any of them.

Bellatrix carefully held out her arm and made slight clicking noises with her tongue. The dragon moved towards her, approaching carefully while letting out a low yet not hostile growl. Hermione watched in horrid fascination as the dragon pressed its muzzle against Bellatrix, moving up slowly from her belly to her chest. Carefully, the dark witch laid her hands on both side of its head and lay down her cheek on the dragon's snout. The smile on Bellatrix's face was surprisingly child-like and blissful as her curly mane spread out over the dragon's scales.

Once Bellatrix released it, the dragon reared its head towards Hermione. The young witch gasped as the interested dragon approached slowly and warily.

"Keep perfectly still," Bellatrix whispered. "Don't let him know you're afraid."

Easier said than done, as the dragon made the ground shake a little with every step while its sharp talons made an eerie clicking sound against the stone. Hermione remained perfectly still when the dragon pressed its nose against Hermione's torso and overtly sniffed her scent a few times. A brief nudge from its muzzle almost knocked Hermione off her feet, but she managed to brace herself at the last moment.

"Come on," Bellatrix hissed. "Pet him, you coward."

Hermione gulped and, despite her better judgment, slowly reached out to touch the dragon's muzzle. It was warm and smooth to the touch when she finally did stroke his nose. The dragon let out a slight huff before sharply turning around to make a running start towards the edge of the cliff. After flinging itself down, the dragon spread his wings and took off into the skies once more.

"That... was amazing," said a Hermione was still somewhat afraid to speak.

"He likes you," Bellatrix replied.

"Is this the pet dragon you threatened to feed me to?"

Bellatrix seemed thoughtful. "I wouldn't call him a pet, really. He's just a dragon I know. Or... a friend, even. When I found out one was roosting on this island, I sought him out. Took me months to win his confidence."

Hermione watched the dragon fly through the air. It was already so far away.

"Dragons can't be tamed, you see? They are free," said Bellatrix. "I've never been free. I was trapped by the expectations my family had of me, trapped in an arranged marriage with a useless layabout. When I met my lord, I thought I had gained freedom, but it was merely another cage. I was too blind to see it. Then came Azkaban and my… instabilities. I've been caged my whole life, but now I'm more free than I've ever been. That's what I want for all wizards. For them to spread their wings, take flight and be a part of this world."

"And yet," replied Hermione angrily. "You hold me captive at the palace. For all your bluster about freedom, you are very quick to tread on mine!"

The dark witch seemed thoughtful for a moment. "A necessary evil, little mudblood."

"Stop calling me that! I have a name!" Hermione snapped. Though it might enrage the woman, Hermione felt in her right to demand at least some measure of respect, especially if Bellatrix expected her to join her cause.

Oh, the dark witch turned her head, alright. An angry scowl was etched on her face. "I suppose you do… little girl," replied Bellatrix. This concession surprised even Hermione. "I also suppose I should not be so dismissive of mudbloods. Oh, don't get me wrong, I am still of firm belief that pure-bloods are superior wizards, but… we couldn't have gotten as far as we did without all the half-bloods and mudbloods in the Union. When we started out, I saw our movement as one for pure-bloods and perhaps half-bloods only, those I considered to be true wizards and witches. When mudbloods started to flock to our banner, nobody was more shocked, appalled and outraged than I was."

Bellatrix went quiet for a moment while she stepped towards the cliff and looked out over the sea with her back turned to Hermione. "I was a fool to send them away and I'm fortunate to have realized this in time. Even I can see that we couldn't have built what we have today without them."

Hermione frowned. "Bellatrix Black admitting that muggle-borns have value. I must be dreaming."

"Believe me, it was a nightmare for me as well," the dark witch rolled her eyes as she turned towards Hermione. "At the start of the war, I was honestly struggling what to do with them. Make them slaves? Indentured servants? Second class citizens? A labour-class? Or just... citizens, as I finally decided upon. They fight just as hard and are just as loyal as any pure-blooded wizard. I suppose I need to get used to the smell of muck around me."

"Just lovely," Hermione sighed while Bellatrix drew her wand. "What are you doing?"

Bellatrix frowned in response. "Well, I don't know what you're up to, but I'm apparating back to the palace. In case you haven't noticed, the Walpurgis Union is still missing a founding member. We _will_ take back Denmark, little girl! It's not a question of if, it's a question of when!"

Hermione nodded and knew better than to provoke Bellatrix on this point. The loss of Denmark a month ago was still fresh on everybody's mind back at the palace. Bellatrix herself had flown into a massive rage so fierce that most of the palace staff had been afraid to approach her for days. Fortunately, she had calmed down considerably since then, but it was still a touchy subject.

A prelude to yet more war. Just wonderful.

However, Hermione had a more pressing concern; namely about at least fifteen sets of baleful black eyes upon her.

"Are you just going to leave me here?!" Hermione exclaimed incredulously. "Those monsters are right there in the treeline waiting to pounce on me!"

Bellatrix smirked. "Well, it was your own bright idea to come out here without a wand. Deal with it."

"You can't just leave me here! I won't stand a chance against all those rusalki!"

"I can do whatever I want, unless..." she grinned wickedly. "Come now, miss Granger. Ask nicely."

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "Could you apparate me back to the palace?" asked the young witch.

"And?" Bellatrix winked.

Hermione sighed heavily and shook her head. " _Please?"_

"That's better," Bellatrix nodded, placed her hand on her shoulder and apparated them both away with a pop.

* * *

**Location=∞. T=zero.**

The primitives' antics were... bemusing. It was partly fascinated and partly offended as these short-lived parasites stumbled through their insignificant existence. Indeed. They would be useful.

It watched.

It waited.


	6. Heart of Steel

**20th of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Small Council Chamber**

Having been a 'guest' at the palace for almost three months now, Hermione felt it more and more difficult to distance herself from the people there. At first it was only Alexei and Luna, but as she exhausted more and more of her escape options, her time had been significantly freed up for other pursuits. As a result, she had gotten a lot friendlier with some of the palace staff. Artyom the soft-spoken librarian, Luba who was one of the palace guards and Freja, an intern from Sweden, just to name a few.

One of the people she had been talking to more often was Augustus Rookwood, of all people. She constantly had to remind herself that Rookwood had once been a Death Eater. As it stood, the old man seemed more like a jovial and friendly old grandfather to her, complete with near-stereotypical bushy white beard, small round glasses and an obviously well-loved floppy old pointy wizard hat. Which, she supposed, was rather the point because he had successfully spied on the Ministry for Voldemort for almost two decades. Still, as an ex-unspeakable, he had plenty of interesting stories to tell which Hermione could never hear anywhere else.

In fact, it was Rookwood whom had invited Hermione to join one of Bellatrix's small council meetings often held in the smaller room behind Bellatrix's vainglorious throne, which was where she had taken a chair right now. The past weeks she had learned a lot about the political inner workings of the Walpurgis Union and even if she wasn't planning on joining them, today might still hold interest to her.

Bellatrix's small council consisted mostly of representatives of the highest level of government. Augustus Rookwood was Bellatrix's chancellor and handled the day to day governing of the Union. Luna was there in her capacity as Spymaster. Antonin Dolohov served as commander of the military sphere and Maini Lehto, a rotund Finnish witch who in her role as Exchequer guarded the Union's expenditures. Normally, there'd be an expert on diplomatic relations present as well, but that seat had been vacant the last three months... for obvious reasons.

She had met all the people in the room prior to attending, but the only dark horse had been Dolohov. He was usually on one of the front lines and very rarely attended the palace. He was a handsome man, certainly, but Hermione was well aware of his past.

"I remember you," spoke Dolohov while he looked at her intently. "Ah, yes. Potter's friend. The girl from the cafe. You have good aim."

Hermione crossed her arms, determined not to be intimidated by this man. "Payback for the Department of Mysteries."

Dolohov let out a brief snort, while Bellatrix leaned forward. "Well, I would see this as an encouraging sign. Joining our little clubhouse here and making friends with people who tried to kill you."

Hermione shook her head. "I am here on invitation by mister Rookwood to observe. Please do not interpret my presence as an expression of interest in the position you have offered me."

Augustus Rookwood let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, she's a diplomat, alright."

"I like it when they play hard to get," Bellatrix let out a girlish giggle. "Makes the chase so much more fun!"

Augustus Rookwood scraped his throat. "Shall we get started, then? We have a full agenda to cover."

"Yes, yes, if you must," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. There was some chuckling going around the table, which was an indication to Hermione that Bellatrix was often impatient during these proceedings.

"I bring news from the fronts and you're not going to like it," spoke Dolohov in his accented voice. "The Swedes are getting nervous now that the Nixies have taken Denmark. They report contact with Nixie forces along their coastline, but the enemy always retreats before hostilities break out. I'd say they are scouts testing their defenses. The Swedes fear an invasion and are requesting additional troops to secure the border."

Luna nodded briefly as she leafed through her papers. "Our agents in Norway and Sweden report covert infiltration attempts. We've captured one or two of them and are interrogating them now. I don't have anything concrete to report yet, though."

Dolohov paused for a moment. "In my opinion, what's happening now is indicative of a major problem. While we were busy securing Switzerland, they took Denmark from us because that's where most of our invading forces were sent from. Our armies are loyal and brave, but also tired, overworked and stretched thin. The Union has grown in size faster than our armies have. There's simply too much territory to cover and not enough people to cover it. We've come to a point that whenever we take a territory of theirs, they will inevitably take one of ours. We're currently evenly matched and all we can do is take pot shots at each other. "

Hermione listened and listened closely. Though Snape was a lot more secretive about such matters, she had been privy to information which stated that the Phoenix Alliance was suffering from similar problems. Too much territory for the troops to cover while being stuck in near constant warfare. This meant nothing short of a stalemate, the worst possible thing which could have happened; endless wars of attrition without an end in sight crossed Hermione's troubled mind.

Bellatrix seemed thoughtful for a moment. "What about our war trolls?"

"Same problem," said Dolohov. "Trolls have to be trained and we need about three wizards per war troll on the battlefield to guide them. Bella, our soldiers are loyal and willing, but... five years of fighting without pause has taken its toll."

The dark witch listened intently and rubbed her chin. Hermione could see the conflict in her eyes. "We have plenty of jobless goblins, right? Give them some wands and point them towards the enemy."

Hearing those words almost made Hermione's jaw drop to the ground. That was the most progressive thing she had heard any witch say ever and it came out of the mouth of Bellatrix Black of all people.

Rookwood grunted briefly. "Is that wise?"

"They've been angling for more rights, haven't they?" Bellatrix shrugged. "Let them earn them."

"Very well. We'll start a recruitment drive," said Rookwood.

"That might bolster our forces for some time, but it won't solve the problem on the long-term," said Dolohov. "Shall I begin troop transfers to Sweden?"

Hermione listened and listened carefully. Bellatrix was seemingly lost in thought for a moment and from her eyes, she could see that the dark witch was miles away. She ran a hand through her curly hair while pursing her lips ever so slightly. "No," she spoke, almost a whisper. "No, that's what Snivellus is expecting us to do."

Bellatrix suddenly stood up and slammed her hands down on the map of Europe on the table in front of them. "How insulting. He thinks we're idiots, lads. Troops to bolster Sweden's defenses have to come from somewhere and that would leave other territories exposed. He's after something else... what are looking for, Severus?"

She paused for a moment. "Send a token force to Sweden to placate them, but nothing more. Snape isn't going to try to take it from us. If he does, we can attack him from Norway, Finland and the north of Sweden. His forces will be trapped in a pincer and he'll face a three-way front. He won't take that risk. Luna, deploy some agents to the field. Try to ascertain what Snape is _really_ trying to do."

Luna nodded in response while Bellatrix sat back down and let her arms drop on the sides of the chair. "Gentlemen, it's painfully obvious. There's no chance we can win this war, even with our number of loyal troops. But they can't win either. This _is_ a stalemate. But that fact cannot leave this room."

Both Rookwood and Dolohov nodded grimly. "We need to hold on to what we have," said Bellatrix. "And be more clever about it. And what does our diplomatic miss Granger have to say about this, hm?"

Hermione hadn't been expecting to be let in on the conversation, and thus felt a little put on the spot. The corners of the dark witch's mouth curled up in a slight smirk as she waited for an answer. Truth be told, there was only one thing that she could say. "I would say that this is the perfect time to negotiate a truce and sue for peace," responded Hermione.

The young witch expected to be laughed at, to be told that she was being childish and naive for failing to recognize the danger the Walpurgis Union represented to the continued existence of wizardkin. It is what she had heard in the Phoenix Alliance on a regular basis, after all. But nobody laughed at her here, not even a single condescending pat on the head. It was refreshing.

"Well, a cease-fire currently isn't an option," said Dolohov. "I'll make the arrangement for a token force to be transferred to Sweden while putting the troops along the borders of Nixie territories on high alert. We'll see what happens next."

Rookwood rolled out his scroll again and announced the next point of discussion. "Right, we'll close this item for now. Let's move on. There has been an increase in dementor attacks along our borders. They were mostly targeting our military outposts but after finding that out our soldiers have bite, they have moved on to civilian targets."

Hermione noted that all three former death-eaters' mood darkened considerably, all having had plenty of experience suffering at the mercy of those foul creatures. She knew that both sides were guilty of war crimes and this was just one of many atrocities either side had committed on the other. It made her wonder how long it would take for the wizarding world to heal when this conflict would finally be over.

"Ahum," sounded Luna. "My agents could attempt to identify talented wizards and witches among the civilians of the most affected areas and set up courses to teach them how to cast a patronus. Though that won't save everybody, it'll leave our civilians far less defenseless than they are now."

"Do it," replied Bellatrix. "Next item?"

Rookwood rummaged through his papers for a bit, shuffling them back and forth. "Just a moment. Ah, here, it is. We have received a communique from the United States Magical Congress, bearing the seal of president Eagle Kincaid."

"Ugh, give me the cliff-notes," Bellatrix snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Alright," said Rookwood. "They are concerned about us having broken Swiss neutrality and remind us of the non-aggression pact we've signed with them."

Ah, yes, the US wanted to desperately maintain their neutrality in this conflict. There had been a shockwave going through the western European Ministries when the United States signed a non-aggression pact with the Walpurgis Union during the early days of the war. To be honest, Hermione had seen it coming. The US had always kept themselves out of the first and second wizarding wars, citing that the rise of Voldemort was 'not their concern' and that Europe should 'solve their own problems'.

"Remind them that Switzerland chose their own fate by facilitating an assassination attempt. Tell them that we'll honor the non-aggression pact as long as they do," said Bellatrix. "Have it stamped with my wax seal to give it my 'personal assurance'. That should satisfy Kincaid well enough."

"Right, next point," said Augustus after motioning to the house-elf keeping minutes to make an urgent note of it. "Muggle-relations on home soil are proceeding as planned. The Muggles who are aware of our presence have eagerly accepted our further proposals. Several laws have been drafted in our favor and we stand to benefit in both financial and territorial terms."

Bellatrix laughed heartily for a moment. "Ah, yes, Putin. He's such a good little boy, isn't he? He does what he's told."

"Excuse me," Hermione broke in. "Are you manipulating the Muggle world? Isn't that against what you want to achieve?"

"Not at all," said Rookwood. "We have a long term game plan here."

"We're not insipid," Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Even though the Nixies often accuse us of that. We know the Muggles outnumber us. We know they are potentially dangerous. We need to have protections in place, slowly introduce the magical world to them and do keep a certain distance at all times. The end game is not co-option, but co-existence. However, we will do so on our own terms. And they need to know we have teeth. Teeth we will use if threatened."

"Putin has enemies," said Luna. "We remove them. In turn, a grateful Putin does what we ask him to do. It's not really as sinister as it might sound. For example, we sent a healer to a Romanian businessman whose wife was suffering from a terminal illness. In return, he funds a publisher which spreads children's books with stories about wizards, witches and magic. We have found the missing child of a prominent social activist who will lobby for social changes in our benefit when the time comes."

Hermione nodded. So far, that sounded rather benign. Co-existence was a nice thought, but what about the people who wouldn't cooperate? She wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to simply have those people brought under the imperius curse. Only time would tell, it would seem.

"Next up," said Rookwood. "Ah, this is going to be popular topic. Some questions have been raised over our final choice for the Walpurgis Union's national bird."

A collective groan went through the gathered attendees. Bellatrix threw her head against the back of her seat and let out what seemed to be a silent scream while even Luna let out a sigh of defeat.

Dolohov let out a Russian expletive before speaking. "Why are we on about this _again_?! We just spent the last eight months looking at photographs of birds."

"We settled on the jackdaw," Bellatrix buried her hands in her curly mane while supporting herself by putting her elbows on the table. "It's done!"

"Birgit has raised concerns. In some of our territories, the jackdaw is considered a nuisance bird. She says that might have negative impact on propaganda campaigns there."

Birgit could only be Birgit Ostlund, Hermione surmised. Birgit was a shrewd young Swedish woman who was the Union's master of propaganda. Hermione met her once or twice and found her to be arrogant and condescending to a fault.

"Tell Birgit to deal with it!" Bellatrix snapped. "There's three jackdaws in my family crest. The Union's heraldry is based upon it. If the jackdaw isn't good enough for her to appreciate, I'm sure we can find a new master of propaganda who can. We picked the jackdaw, it will be the jackdaw!"

Rookwood smiled as he stroked his beard. "I'm sure she'll be pleased with your answer."

"What about the trouble in Latvia?" Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Has that been solved?"

"Ah, that would be my next point," said Rookwood. "For those of you who weren't at the meeting last time and, as usual, couldn't be bothered to actually read the minutes, the Latvian Ministry has not been paying us the tribute we are owed. As you know, the height of the tribute is a percentage of the GNP."

It was the first time Maina spoke, as she did in an accented voice. "The problem is that the GNP is fully based on official tax records. However, just about every wizarding employer in Latvia, including the Ministry, pays half of the salaries through official channels and gives out the other half in brown unmarked envelopes to evade taxes. Therefore, the GNP is lower and so is our tribute."

"Ugh!" Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Remind me again why we let those people in?!"

"Strategic location, cheap land and lots of potatoes," muttered Antonin.

"Rookwood?" said Bellatrix. "Have you made an example of the Latvian Minister of Magic?"

"Hah, yes," grinned Rookwood. "We transfigured her into a pig in front of the entire parliament. We might even retrieve her before they cart them off to the knacker's yard. I predict no further problems."

There was laughter all around, even though Hermione didn't find it to be particularly funny.

"Now that we're on the subject of coin," Rookwood grinned at Maina.

Ah, yes, coin. Even Hermione had to admit that nationalizing Gringotts banks in Walpurgis nations had been a stroke of genius. Not only did it break the hold the goblins had on their part of the wizarding world, but it also gave the Union complete control over their own finances. Sure, there were a lot of unhappy ex-bankers in the Union, but she knew for a fact that many Ministries were very jealous of this financial independence.

"I think I saw Maina dancing through the halls earlier when Luna broke the news that we were finally done hauling all the galleons to our treasury," Bellatrix cackled.

"Why wouldn't I be happy?! We have enough budget for everything now, and then some!" Maina laughed. "Our coffers are overflowing."

"That's an understatement," replied the dark witch. "I hear we had to increase the extension charms to house all the gold."

The young witch gasped when she finally put two and two together. It was interesting how much the wizarding world mirrored the Muggle world. Like Muggles, plenty of rich wizards and even some governments had Swiss bank accounts. And after conquering Switzerland, Bellatrix must have claimed all that money as the spoils of war.

Bellatrix was giddily giggling, a frightening sound, really. "All those rich twats are going to scream bloody murder! Snape's really going to feel the heat on this one. In the meantime, let's do something nice for the people. I believe festivals are in order. Make sure every city gets their due."

"That's going to be a popular decision," said Rookwood. "It would help if you would put in some appearance at the festivals, especially at the territories more torn by the war. To improve morale, you see?"

"Very well," said Bellatrix. "Draw up a schedule and I shall look it over."

Hermione held up her hand. "Wait. Wait. That… that was the real reason behind the invasion of Switzerland, wasn't it? You were after the galleons all along! The assassination attempt was just an excuse for you to invade!"

Bellatrix's eyes met hers and once again her mouth twisted in a mirthful grin. It struck Hermione just how driven and devious Bellatrix could be. Even if the Walpurgis Union would pull out of Switzerland, the money would never be returned and Snape would come under a lot pressure from his own backers as a result. "You are not the same person you were under Voldemort…"

Hermione quickly found out that Voldemort was a touchy subject among the former Death Eaters. Both Augustus and Dolohov shifted nervously as if they were afraid that the mere mention of the Dark Lord's name would somehow make him appear in front of them, even though he was now well and truly dead. Bellatrix, however, was considerably less than nervous.

"My former lord was many things," said Bellatrix. "Short-sighted was one of them. He only ever cared for his own gain, his own power, his own immortality. We meant nothing to him. He didn't value the people who served him loyally. I _do_."

Bellatrix stood up from her chair and paced around the table. "Look around you. Look at what we've achieved. At the end of the day, the Dark Lord I once called visionary was a small man with a small mind. I have achieved what he could only dream of!"

"Here, here!" Augustus raised his glass.

"To the filthy rich Walpurgis Union and its filthy rich future!" added Maina.

"Hm, you've been rather quiet this meeting, Luna," said Dolohov.

Luna turned to him and cocked her head sideways. "Well, I didn't have much to say, really. Unless you want to hear about this fascinating theory I have about Rotfang infiltrators who..."

"Uh, I'll pass, thank you!" Dolohov said quickly.

"Your loss," Luna smiled warmly.

While the others were gathering up their papers and getting ready to leave, Augustus turned towards his invitee. "So, miss Granger, what is your impression of us so far?"

In response to this question, Hermione sat back for a moment while a thoughtful look crossed her features. "My impression is that you've given me a lot to think about."

"Hah," laughed Maina. "Most diplomatic answer ever."

* * *

**20th of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace corridors**

Bellatrix was in a particularly good mood when she left the small council chambers and made her way back towards her private wing for a bit of a rest. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night, after all.

She passed some of her staff, mostly kids working in the administrative center. Wide-eyed and in awe, they stopped talking and cleared a path for her while dipping their heads in respect. Bellatrix gave them a brief nod before continuing on her way. Just before she rounded about the corner, she caught the whisper of one of them telling the others how beautiful she looked. And, vain as she was, that improved her mood even more.

The awkward, ugly and inconvenient truth that the war was unwinnable was something which had been on her mind for some time now. Of course, that was no excuse to stop fighting, but rather an incentive to find another strategy to exploit.

Her thoughts drifted to Hermione Granger, whom had attended and listened intently. She had to admit she had come to rather like the girl; she asked the right questions at the right times, stood up for herself at perceived attacks and knew when to keep her mouth shut. The dark witch even had to admit that she was pretty... for a mudblood. Moreover, she liked the idea of taking away one of Snape's toys from him. Oh, the girl would be easy enough to co-opt through the use of the imperius curse, but what would be the challenge in that? If she turned willingly, well... that would be all the more delicious.

Her footsteps echoed from the empty corridor as he private wing was in sight. Still, there was one thing which did not sit will with her; the things she had said about her former lord. A small man with a small mind? Had she really said that? It didn't sound possible, yet... there it was.

She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the heavy wooden door from some feet away. Lord Voldemort he was... her lord. Her everything. She'd loved him. She'd done everything for him. Even if she knew quite clearly that he had just been using her, been exploiting her feelings for him, what she said... still didn't sound right.

Immediately, her body wracked with terrible, terrible agony. Her muscles spasmed as her legs fell out from under her. Her shoulder slammed into the wall while her head felt as if someone had just stabbed it with a red-hot knife and started jerking around the tip through her brain. Ever so briefly, for about the tiniest sliver of a second, she caught flashes of impossible shapes in impossible colors. She let out a cry of agony as her fingernails dug mercilessly into her own flesh. The dark witch found herself in her cold sweat as she collapsed against the wall, trying to get a hold of herself.

"Bella!" she heard from the other end of the corridor as Augustus rushed towards her. "Bella," he said again, softer this time, after kneeling down and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm... fine..." Bellatrix forced herself to speak through her shivers.

"You don't look fine," said Augustus. "You haven't had an attack like that in months."

"I'm FINE!" Bellatrix hissed angrily. "I just... need... some sleep."

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," said Augustus. "We can't let anyone see you like this."

Bellatrix bristled. She was not some invalid who needed to have her hand held. Then again, she wasn't in much of a position to argue. She allowed Augustus to help her to her feet, and gave him a brief nod of permission to apparate the both of them to the infirmary. No doubt a healer would already be waiting for them.

"Voldemort," Bellatrix hissed while Augustus supported her weight. "Was a fool! He had no one to blame for his downfall but himself. I... AM... NOTHING... LIKE HIM!"

"You aren't," said Augustus before a pop left the corridor empty.

* * *

**20th of August 2003 – Norwich, United Kingdom – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

Well, at least it had been an interesting day.

This is what Snape thought while he sat in his office after having spent an entire day either talking, shouting his voice hoarse or anything in between. Some of his 'guests' had seen a liberal amount of offensive magic from him.

He looked at the map of Europe now hanging from the wall and came to the conclusion that Bellatrix had outplayed him. For now, at least. He had to admit to himself that he had never expected Bellatrix to raid the Swiss branch of Gringotts. Not only would this have severe economic consequences, but she had expertly exploited the Phoenix Alliance's main weakness; the fact that it was a democracy.

The Alliance was a standing army funded by twelve separate Ministries which all felt they deserved special treatment because of that. Oh, when they were frightened and under treat, they did everything expected of them, but the moment they felt safe the demands started pouring in.

And now Bellatrix had made off with enough gold to buy the nations of the Phoenix Alliance right down from under him. Rich wizards whom had lost sizable fortunes approached their respective political contact who, in turn, started their lobbying efforts... which basically came down to them flooing to headquarters to scream in his ear.

Gringotts had sent representatives as well. There was nothing quite as terrifying as watching an entire group of grown goblins bawling their eyes out. Officially, of course, the Phoenix Alliance condemned the actions of the Walpurgis Union, but unofficially, Snape knew for certain that Bellatrix wouldn't give a flying fuck about it.

Meanwhile, politicians were demanding to send high-level diplomats to the Union to negotiate at least a partial return of the stolen funds. They were hoping they could convince the Union with some enticing concessions.

Fools. All of them.

There was no negotiating with the Union. They wanted nothing sort of the exposure of the wizarding world to the Muggles. Didn't those short-sighted idiots realize that this would mean the end of them all? The end of everything which made wizardkin special and unique? Muggles couldn't be trusted!

Merlin, he could see _why_ the Walpurgis Union was a dictatorship. It would be so much easier to just issue an edict and have that edict be followed to the letter. Democracy, a supposed cornerstone of the Alliance, had given him nothing but trouble while trying to win this war for them.

Snape took a sip from his drink and shook his head. Even if he wanted to send high-level diplomats to the Union, he couldn't. Almost all high-level diplomats perished at miss Granger's summit and his begrudgingly admitted most talented diplomat had effectively left the wizarding world. Still, despite his promise to the Potter boy not to bother her, he felt he should send agents to Australia to try to find her; he was certain that, with the right incentive, miss Granger could be convinced to return.

Furthermore, Bellatrix hadn't taken the bait he expected her to take. Though he held firm control over Denmark, Bellatrix had yet to send extra troops to Sweden. She must have seen through his plan and attacking Sweden outright was not currently an option. Still, it wasn't a total loss. Though Switzerland was now occupied territory, it had never been part of the Alliance. And yes, Alliance forces _had_ taken Denmark, a prominent member of the Union. That was a great boost in morale.

Snape rubbed his chin. It was time for a different tactic.

* * *

**22nd of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace Cafeteria.**

Today wasn't the first time Hermione had dinner with Alexei. The cafeteria had a great selection of evening meals and had plenty of booths to dine in relative privacy. Today's offering was turkey meatloaf on a bed of white beans; another interesting yet surprisingly delicious offering from the Ukrainian chef.

"So," spoke Alexei. "I hear you've been attending Lady Black's small council."

There was an odd almost hopeful look on his face when he said it, something Hermione found curious. "It was just one," Hermione replied. "Mostly I was just interested to see the proceedings. I'm still not switching sides."

Alexei leaned forward. "You don't realize how lucky you are, Hermione. I know people who would kill for a chance to be one of Lady Black's advisors."

"Hah," Hermione laughed. "They can have it. They don't need to kill for it either, I'd gladly hold a raffle. Lucky winner gets the seat."

That made Alexei laugh. "I don't think that'll work. Lady Black likely only wants _you_."

Hermione let out a sigh of defeat. "Lucky, lucky me. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you about the commotion in the west wing a couple of days back. There's rumors all over the palace."

"Oh," said Alexei. "When we had to lock down the infirmary and block the entire hallway? It's all a bit hush-hush, but I don't think it should be. It was because Lady Black had to be taken there."

"Really?" Hermione frowned.

"She was none too pleased about it too. The healer looked her over and there was nothing wrong with her. Honestly, there would have been a lot less commotion if we _hadn't_ blocked the hallway."

"There must have been some sort of reason why she was sent to the infirmary," Hermione rubbed her chin.

"I have a fairly good idea what's going on. Lady Black suffers from migraine attacks," Alexei replied.

"Indeed?"

Alexei shrugged. "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I recognize the symptoms. My mother used to get really bad ones which went away as quickly as they came. I'm not surprised Lady Black suffers from them too, considering the pressures she's under."

"So why all the secrecy?" Hermione asked. "And is that why nobody has seen Bellatrix for almost three days?"

"I think mister Rookwood fears it would make lady Black seem weak if she were to be taken to the infirmary in plain sight. Personally, I think lady Black has nothing to be embarrassed about," said Alexei. "As it stands, she is resting in her private wing for the time being."

Hermione took a bite from her meatloaf while she mulled this over. After swallowing her food, she turned to Alexei again. "Curious. Has this happened more often?"

"Well, from what I've heard," said Alexei. "She used get really bad attacks a few years ago, but not so many recently. This is the first one she's had this year. But there is something else I want to talk about."

"Oh?" Hermione cocked her head sideways.

"Your lack of more escape attempts. I'm disappointed. My guards are getting fat and lazy without you keeping them on their toes," Alexei grinned.

Hermione laughed in response. "Maybe I'm just trying to lull you into a false sense of security. Honestly, though, there's not much avenues left. Your guards are far too efficient."

"I'll tell them you said that. Oh, and I probably should have warned you about the rusalki in the deeper forests. I'm so sorry about that," said Alexei. "If I'd known you'd actually try to..."

"It's alright," said Hermione. "I did notice that I'm no longer allowed to be near the jetty, though."

There was a small jetty on the far side of the palace which were being used to ferry across delicate spell-reagents which could not be apparated in. Hermione had briefly considered stowing away on the boat on the trip back, until she was disappointed to learn that the boat itself was so small that she was sure to be noticed.

"That's for your own safety," said Alexei. "Luba is rather frightened that you might risk making a swim for St. Petersburg. The waters around the island are deceptively calm on the surface, but there is a nasty undercurrent."

Hermione took another bite from her food. "It's nice that Luba is looking out for me, but I'm not stupid. I know St. Petersburg is simply too far away for me to swim. Besides, I think I would be spotted by those two airships flying around the island right away. I don't recall seeing those around before."

"Oh, you didn't hear the news? There'll be at least two airships on patrol at all times for the time being. It's a recommendation from Dolohov. He cited heightened security risks. They are magnificent, aren't they? Did you know there's actually a prototype of a new design being built which is supposed to be bigger, badder and faster? But the project has been plagued with so many setbacks that some consider the project to be cursed."

To Hermione that sounded like a good thing. The sight of one or more Walpurgis Airships arriving on the field of battle was universally feared by the Phoenix Alliance; to think there could be a more advanced and deadlier version seeing her launch soon worried her greatly.

"I'm afraid I only saw the inside of the hull of the one I was on," Hermione responded.

"Would you like a tour? A proper tour of the ship this time? I know the first officer of the Rasputin from my old school days. I could ask him."

Hermione nodded. "I think I would like that." She had to admit she was quite interested in the technical and magical aspects of what made these airships tick on an intellectual level, despite abhorring them.

With the food finished, Hermione decided to spend the rest of the evening lazying about in her quarters. Though Alexei offered to walk her to her door, Hermione politely declined and said her goodbyes. A short walk later, Hermione entered her quarters and locked the door behind her.

Over the course of the past three months, Hermione had made her guest quarters cozy and homely. She had been told that if she needed something, all she had to do was to fill out a requisition form and deliver it to the quartermaster. Nothing made her feel more at home than being among books, so the young witch had requisitioned book cases to line along the walls and was slowly filling them up with books she was collecting. Paintings and rugs gave it a more personal touch. Some colorful flowers lined the windows, giving the room a fragrant and cheerful atmosphere.

Hermione had withdrawn to the comfort of her room to process the happenings of today. The small council meeting a few days back had certainly been very interesting and had given her some valuable insights. By now, she had resigned herself to being a long-term guest at the palace. It was frustrating to a degree, seeing that had finally decided to try to find her parents and now... she might never see them again.

She didn't want to think about it. Having borrowed a copy of the Iliad from the palace library, Hermione immersed herself in the struggles of Agamemnon and Achilles while propped up against a pillow on her bed. She had just turned the page when she heard a pop right next to her.

"What do you know about the Tunguska event?" asked Luna.

By now, the startled Hermione had thrown the book in the air at her friend's sudden appearance and rolled away so quickly that she almost toppled off the side of the bed. Luna was calmly sitting in the chair next to the bed and waited patiently for Hermione to catch her breath.

"Honestly, Luna!" Hermione huffed. "Where did you just come from?"

"Oh, here and there," Luna replied. "What do you know about the Tunguska event?"

Upon hearing the question for a second time, Hermione realized Luna was up to something and scratched her head. "Wasn't that a meteor-strike in Siberia about a century ago?"

Luna didn't smile this time. "That's the official cover story," said Luna. "On the 30th of June, 1908, a massive explosion took place in the remote taiga woods of Siberia. It was so remote that the Muggles didn't even officially investigate until 1921. That gave the Russian Ministry plenty of time to cover it up. Though they never did bother to cover up the eighty million trees the explosion knocked over."

Hermione sat up straighter. "You mean it wasn't a meteor-strike? Then what was it?"

Luna nodded grimly. "What is a little known fact is that it was the site of an experiment done by researchers from Durmstrang into the nature of magic. It's still unclear what they were actually trying to achieve and what caused the experiment to go horribly wrong because all the researchers died in the blast. But some of their research material which was stored off-site survived."

Luna reached down into her satchel and took out a small leather-bound notebook. It seemed well-loved and well-used and was slightly charred along the spine. A name was embossed on the cover. 'Pandora Lovegood'.

Hermione took the notebook and leaved through it. It seemed to be some sort of research journal. Notes were scribbled, drawings were made, recipes, formulae... Pandora Lovegood had obviously been a well-versed magic theorist.

"My mother tried to replicate the experiment," said Luna. "Go on, read it from the bookmark I put in, I'll wait."

The bookmark in question was an artist's rendition of a nargle. Some things never changed, Hermione supposed.

_Pandora Lovegood's Research Journal, 2nd of April 1990._

_Finally. After years of begging, pleading, threatening and bribing, I have managed to get my hands on the original research notes of the Tunguska experiment. Dark wizards and their secrets are not easily parted and with the wounds caused by You-Know-Who still relatively fresh, these are the types of secrets some wizards prefer to keep buried. There are only fragments of text, but even that should be enough. The nature of magic. Will I be the witch who finally discovers the answer to the most enigmatic question of all?_

Hermione had to admit that she was intrigued. The nature and history of magic was a subject taught at Hogwarts, but it had been rather obvious to her even then that nobody had the slightest clue where it actually came from. There were theories, of course, but most of them were rather... out there. Then again, she'd always been a bit of a louse in theory of magic class. Magic was a form of energy and the law of conservation of energy stated that energy cannot simply spring into being out of nothing. Magic could not spring into being 'because magic', as was the ruling theory in the wizarding world. Ergo, magic had to have a source. Maybe Pandora and the Durmstrang researchers had been on the verge of an exciting discovery by unearthing this mysterious source.

At Hogwarts, Hermione herself had been thinking about doing her own research and combine it with discoveries made through Muggle science, particularly physics and evolution. She had abandoned the project because she wasn't knowledgeable enough in the area of physics... and the fact that her teacher objected to the idea of Muggle science even being applicable to magic. Utterly fascinated, she read on.

_Pandora Lovegood's Research Journal, 15th of May 1990._

_I am shivering, but neither from cold nor from fear. After weeks of painstaking trial and error, I have finally managed to piece together the ritual the Durmstrang wizards have used. I also see where they went wrong. Hubris, as usual, was their downfall. The scale of their experiment was too large, the magics they poured into it too dark and too powerful. If the experiment is to succeed, it must take place on a much smaller scale. Seeing the results of the explosion at Tunguska is enough to convince me of that. Ingredients need to be scaled back a thousand-fold, but even then some will be hard to come by. Xeno will help, of course. The good man always does. My little Luna came down to play in the basement today and, of course, knocked over some glassworks. Still, I can't bring myself to be angry at her. It's for her that I am doing this. The thrill of discovery is something to be shared with those I love._

Hermione smiled to herself. Pandora was a curious sort and an unappreciated pioneer of the realm of magical theory.

_Pandora Lovegood's Research Journal, 29th of May 1990._

_Success! Scaling down the experiment was indeed the key I was looking for. The magic swirled and created what I can only describe as a tiny rift the size of a pinprick. And it is STABLE! The readings I'm getting from it are out of this world... quite literally, in fact. I have come to the conclusion that what I'm looking is not a rift in reality, but the ABSENCE of reality. Based on my findings, I postulate that magic and reality cannot coexist as Magic warps, distorts and even damages reality. If that is the case, the rift I'm looking at is magic in its purest undiluted form. This could change all we know about magic and its nature. I must do more research._

Magic and reality. These were questions wizards have been asking themselves for an age and a half. But as far as she was concerned, nobody had ever come close to the answer. Hermione sat up straighter as she leafed through the journal and found herself unable to put it down.

_Pandora Lovegood's Research Journal, 1st of June 1990._

_I haven't slept for almost 48 hours. But how could I when I can see so clearly what is in front of me. I started off with the most minor of spells and even this tiny, tiny pinprick of a rift amplified them at least tenfold. One can only imagine what kind of dark arts those Durmstrang wizards fired through the larger rift they created. Those witless idiots might have had succeeded in blowing up the entire planet given half the chance. As it stands, the results have been amazing enough. I have put more thought into my theories on magic. Magic is defiance of natural law. Question is, if magic is not truly part of the natural other, then what is it a part of? By all we know about magic and reality, this very rift in my humble lab shouldn't even exist._

God. What had Luna's mother discovered here? Of course, she already knew that Luna's mother had died, supposedly from a spell backfiring. She noted sadly that this story was unlikely to have a happy ending.

_Pandora Lovegood's Research Journal, 2nd of June 1990._

_Finally got some sleep last night. Still, I am slightly uneasy. Ever since I have started experimenting with the rift, I have the feeling of indescribable dread. I know it's irrational and maybe it's just nerves or fatigue. But the feeling never leaves me wherever I go. I've told Luna not to come to the basement for a while until I'm certain what's going on. I have come to believe that whatever it is that's causing it is other side of that rift, as improbable as it might sound. This is a scientific discovery I cannot ignore. Is there something inside anti-reality? How could that be possible? I must find out. I will attempt to make contact. If anything, Xeno will be so delighted to have something so extraordinary to write about._

Hermione turned the page and found that it was the last entry. The young witch looked up to her friend who seemed lost in thought. "I was playing in the yard when I heard the explosion," said Luna with a slight lump in her throat. "I ran into the basement, my mum's lab and... she died screaming."

"Oh god, Luna," Hermione looked upon her friend with sympathy in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Luna smiled briefly before looking away. "There was an investigation, of course. But there was no sign of this rift in her lab. They called her research the ramblings of a mad-woman and dragged her name through the mud. My father never truly got over it."

Hermione looked at her intently. 'Loony' Lovegood had been her nickname at Hogwarts. She and her father, rather than fighting their reputation of being crackpots, had embraced it. Possibly to honor Pandora. It made her see her friend in a whole new light.

"You see, Hermione, I do believe my mother was right about 'something' being on the other side of that rift."

Without saying goodnight or goodbye, Luna disapparated with a loud crack, leaving Hermione with a sense of unease as she didn't quite know what to believe about what she had just heard. She put the journal on the nightstand, intending to return it tomorrow. Sleep. She needed to get some sleep.


	7. The Sightless Hero

**23rd of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters.**

Hermione had to give the Walpurgis Union one thing; they knew how to make the softest and nicest of beds. She turned around to lie on her stomach and kept her eyes closed while smushing her head against the pillow as she snoozed the early morning away. Birds could be heard tweeting in the distance and she felt the morning sun on her face. Hermione didn't feel like getting up yet, however. This bed was so nice... so very nice...

"WAKEY, WAKEY, WAKEY, LITTLE MUDBLOOD!" was suddenly shouted in her ear, followed by a cacophony of lights and sounds exploding through the room.

A startled Hermione almost shot through the ceiling, her groggy mind trying to make sense of what was happening. Obviously, Bellatrix was in her room, her wand raised above her head while it brought forth sparkles and loud noises. A lopsided grin was on the dark witch's face while giving her appraising looks.

Even though she was dressed in pajamas, she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the intruder. "W-what are you doing here?! Why are you in my room?! It's seven in the morning on a Sunday!"

Bellatrix put away her wand and narrowed her eyes at her. "This is _my_ palace! I go where I please in my own keep! Now get dressed, we're going on a field trip."

"W-what?" Hermione blinked. "Field trip? To where?"

"You'll see," Bellatrix winked. "Get dressed! If I have to ask again, I'll drag you out in your pajamas!"

"Wait, I should take a shower first," Hermione stressed while gathering her clothes. Thankfully, being as meticulously organized as she was, she had lain folded fresh clothes for her to wear on the chair next to her bed the previous day.

Bellatrix let out an impatient snort. "Just use perfume," she sighed. "Showers won't help, you'll just smell of mud anyway."

The young witch felt her nostrils flare in anger, but wisely decided to keep her mouth shut.

"Honestly," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I'd think you'd jump at the chance to get away from the palace for a bit after being here for months. Perhaps you like it here after all?"

"I am only reluctant," said Hermione after putting her clothes on the bed to be put on while looking for her shoes. "Because I'm not sure what horrors you might possibly subject me to."

"Tut tut," Bellatrix obviously faked a hurt expression. "It's almost as if you don't trust me."

Hermione stepped to the side of the bed and grabbed her clothes. Before she put them on, she hesitated and turned to offer a pleading look at the dark witch who was studying her intently. "Uhm, do you mind..."

"No, I don't. Hurry up!"

"I meant, uhm, could you turn around, please?" Hermione asked while a blush crept to her cheeks.

In response the dark witch let out a snort and a sigh, but she at least was decent enough to turn her back to her. "Nothing I haven't seen before, girl," Bellatrix replied while Hermione changed into her clothes fast enough to make the Guinness book of records for fear of the dark witch getting bored of standing around and resume watching her change.

"I'm done," Hermione said, ready for whatever twisted ploy Bellatrix had gotten in her head today.

Instead, she found herself under the dark witch's intense scrutiny. "Oh, I don't think so," she said, produced a bottle and tossed it to her. The angle was a little off, so Hermione only just barely caught it.

"Drink," Bellatrix demanded.

This was a moment to take a stand. Hermione locked eyes with Bellatrix while tossing the potion onto the bed. "I'm not drinking some random potion because you say so."

"Fine," Bellatrix sighed. "It's a long-lasting polyjuice potion. Where we are going, it would behoove you not to be recognized."

The young witch hesitated for a moment. Still, she knew going against Bellatrix would be pointless. If she refused, Bellatrix would just have her minions pour it down her throat. To save herself the aggravation, she relented and popped the top off the bottle. She put the bottle to her lips and downed the sweet-tasting liquid. Her entire body tingled as she felt the uncomfortable and familiar feeling of her features twisting, her skin stretching and her body changing. When the transformation was done, she turned to the mirror and found herself looking at Samantha Morris, one of the nurses working at the infirmary. She had spoken to Samantha on several occasions; she was a nice girl from England about her own age who had a more rounded face and long black hair.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix smiled broadly. "To a party! And I do say you are in dire need to let your bristly hair down."

"Wait," said Hermione, remembering that the journal belonging to Luna's mother was still lying on her nightstand. "I should return this to Luna first."

Judging from her expression, Bellatrix was getting well and truly annoyed with her by now. "Leave it," she hissed. "I've sent Lovegood out on a mission. She won't return until her mission is completed. Give her back her little book afterwards!"

Hermione nodded, put the journal in the drawer of her nightstand for safe keeping and shot a last mournful look to the soft, warm and inviting bed before letting out a sigh. She turned towards the dark witch and watched her with a sense of trepidation. Just what _did_ she have in mind for her this time? Before she could ask, the impatient Bellatrix apparated the both of them away.

* * *

**23rd of August 2003 – Norway – Hekstreet town**

When Hermione opened her eyes she gasped at the spectacular sight. She was standing on a wooden dock overlooking the sea beyond the bay it was in. The bay was lined by thick, tall trees as far as the eye can see while the sun cast a pleasant orange morning glow over the water. When she turned around, she saw she stood at the edge of a sizable wizarding town which she could tell by the slanted shape of the buildings. Hermione concluded this entire bay must have been enchanted to be hidden from the sight of Muggles passing by on boats.

Wherever they were, they were in the heart of the Walpurgis Union. The Walpurgis flag was being flown from many buildings and there were propaganda posters with Bellatrix's visage on it spread all over the town.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked.

"Norway," said Bellatrix. "Hekstreet, to be precise. This is a town Rookwood picked for one of my surprise visits during the festivals we paid for."

Hermione blinked. If they were in Norway, that meant that Bellatrix had just casually apparated the both of them to the other side of Europe. Considering that apparition, especially side-long apparitions, got more unreliable as the distance increased, it was a testament to Bellatrix's sheer power.

"Do they know you're coming?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. " _Surprise_ visit, girl! Do I honestly need to explain that concept to you? Also, don't even think about trying to make a run for it. I'll be watching you like a hawk and if you so much as blink in the direction of a wand, you'll get to experience just how loyal my people can be! And trust me, a group of merry party-goers can turn into a frenzied lynch-mob at the blink of an eye."

If she had to be honest, escape was still on Hermione's mind. But she also knew that the dark witch would very much make true on her threat. The two of them casually strolled from the docks into the high street, the heels of their boots tapping on the cobblestones. "Where _is_ everybody?" Bellatrix frowned. "I seem to have lazy subjects."

"Bellatrix, remind me to explain to you the concept to timezones," said Hermione. "It's seven in the morning in Russia. It's five in the morning here. Most decent folk are still asleep."

The dark witch scowled angrily at her. "I know what timezones are!"

They came to a central square which had been adorned with flags, lined with stands and podiums. Braziers were set to be used and kegs of ale stood ready to be tapped. This was all for the festival the Swiss gold was paying for, no doubt. Bellatrix's visage was everywhere here. Aside from the posters, there was a small stand which had a basket full of rag-dolls. They were silly little things some enterprising witch had sewn together for the children and were ready to be sold. With their pale skin fabric, a nicely stitched black dress, black wool for curly hair and two black buttons for eyes, these Bellatrix dolls were actually really cute.

Hermione made sure the dark witch wasn't looking before quickly stuffing one of the dolls in her bag and put a galleon in the small basket on the stand for payment. Whenever she'd feel threatened or frightened by Bellatrix in the future, she'd think of this silly doll. That should make her feel better.

Just as Hermione was about to approach the dark witch, they heard a whistle coming from across the street. A boy, about ten years of age, came around the corner holding what looked like a fishing rod. However, as soon as the boy saw the two of them, he stopped dead in his tracks. The young boy's jaw hit the floor when he saw Bellatrix raising her chin imperiously at him. His eyes flicked from Bellatrix to the propaganda poster and back to Bellatrix. And again to make sure. The fishing pole clattered to the ground as the boy ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. "Pappa!" he shouted. "Pappa! Pappa!"

"Well," Bellatrix snorted. "It's nice to know that I'm still able to frighten small children."

What happened next was as surreal to Hermione as could be. All the wizards and witches living the village were out of bed, dressed and packed onto the square in record time. At least two hundred men, women and children were literally in awe of the fact that the woman they called their Lady had deigned to visit them.

One person, a rather rotund man wearing a top hat carefully shuffled forward and spoke in an accented voice. "L-lady Black. This is... a tremendous honor for our humble village."

"Yes, yes, yes," Bellatrix rolled her eyes impatiently. "I'll be joining you in the celebrations. Let's see what you do with the festival I paid for."

"You will be our guest of honor!" proclaimed the mayor.

"Oh," Bellatrix hooked her arm through Hermione's. "This young lady here is my assistant. Now, she's a bit shy and prone to getting lost. So please do keep sure she doesn't wander off into your lovely village and loses her way."

The mayor made some obsequious bows while the rest of the people dared to slowly approach Bellatrix. Meanwhile, the dark witch grabbed her by the arm and hissed in her ear. "Don't even think of trying anything. Not only are there two hundred eyes on you, but I put a tracking charm in place."

Hermione nodded silently. At least she was out of the palace for a bit.

With all witches and wizards being up and about, there was no reason not to get an early start in for the festival. The townsfolk constructed a podium in record time and put the most expensive and luxurious chair in the village on top of it for Bellatrix to lounge on. For her part, the dark witch rather imperiously observed the festivities from her make-shift throne while Hermione dared to mingle somewhat.

She was lucky to have picked up a Bellatrix doll when she did, seeing they had been sold out rather quickly. Children were running around playing with them and, to her credit, Bellatrix found the whole thing rather amusing. Soon enough, Hermione actually started to enjoy herself. She chatted with folks while happy people around her were dancing, cheering and launching spells in the air. The young witch tried some of the local treats, with flat bread and kringla standing out.

As the day progressed, she admitted that it was probably a good idea that nobody knew who she was. Hermione Granger was a war hero with her own frog card, after all, and thus very recognizable as a member of the Phoenix Alliance. The 'Nixies' were rather unpopular here, a fact which was brought home especially after they burned an effigy of Snape at the stake. Burning at the stake was, for obvious reasons, a powerful image in wizarding culture. Of course, Bellatrix loved it and cheered when what she called the 'Scare-Snape' went up in flames. All in all, Hermione figured it was a good thing that she wore Samantha's face today.

In the afternoon, Hermione sat down in a chair next Bellatrix and merely observed. To her credit, the dark witch was taking the time to talk and listen to her people as they told their stories.

A little blonde girl named Hanne carefully approached the throne and, barely audible over the sounds of the festival, asked her question. "When are you going to take back Denmark?"

Bellatrix leaned forward and pinched her cheek. "Already making plans, cookie-face," Bellatrix smiled.

The next person was a middle-aged gentleman who scraped his throat. "My three daughters have taken up wands for the cause. I hope you will take good care of them."

As the dark witch thanked his family for their devotion, Hermione had to wonder where all this adulation had come from. All these wizards and witches here, even the children, worshipped the ground she walked on! What was stranger still is that they showed this deference in spite of her well-known past. How could this be?

An elderly woman with a sad expression approached Bellatrix and bowed briefly. "My son fought for the Union and was captured. Now the Nixie bastards have put him in their Azkaban. Will you free him?"

Hermione felt a pang of regret... if only that prisoner exchange had taken place, this poor woman wouldn't have to worry about her son. Meanwhile, as soon as Bellatrix heard mention of Azkaban, her expression darkened considerably. The dark witch reached out and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "There will be a day when I will personally raze that wretched place to the ground!" Bellatrix snarled angrily. "Until then, be strong. I have survived Azkaban for fourteen years. If I can do it, so can your son."

Hermione blinked. Bellatrix Black showing sincerity? _Compassion_? In what parallel universe had Hermione found herself? Then it hit her; if she really wanted to know why these people loved Bellatrix so much, this was a perfect opportunity to ask. She'd have to be careful about it, though. The young witch found a table with a few older people sitting away from the festivities for some peace and quiet and she struck up a conversation. It seemed they were quite interested in the day to day life at Buyan palace and, having been there for three months, she could tell quite a bit about.

"I am wondering something, though," asked Hermione. "You're effectively living under a dictatorial regime. Doesn't that bother you?"

One of the older men, whose name was Hans, let out a hearty laugh. "You're showing your age, Samantha. We've always been living under a dictatorship. All we got to choose was which opportunistic bastard got to squeeze us dry every four years."

Hermione was not surprised by this answer. The wizarding world sometimes copied an ideological movement from the Muggle world and gave it their own spin. As a result, the democracy in the ministries was not a true democracy but an approximation of one, which led to widespread corruption and political opportunism. This was easily evidenced by the Ministry's actions under Fudge not so long ago. Not to mention Voldemort's coup in 1997; though there were some changes in management in key positions, it was mostly the same people came to work every day under the new regime and did their jobs without question. Add in the dubious roles played after Voldemort's fall, and you ended up with the common wizard or witch in the street having a deep distrust of the system. Supposedly, the other Ministries were cut from the same cloth.

"When Lady Bellatrix was on the rise, every two-bit politician in our Ministry fell over themselves to win her favor. I'll tell you one thing, though, unlike those parasites, Lady Bellatrix has kept every single one of her promises," spoke an elderly woman.

"She's wonderful," said Hans. "She's exactly what the wizarding world needs. We should have gotten rid of those old traditionalists ages ago. The world has changed and we should change with it. I don't longer want us to hide away from the world. Why should I fear my Muggle relatives?"

"I was sort of worried when I learned she served Voldemort," said Hermione. "And the things she's done in his service."

"That's another thing that's so wonderful about our Lady," said Hans. "She admits her mistakes."

"You can't have been too worried if you're her assistant now," said another older man. "It must be so exciting to work with her so closely."

' _Yes, it's always so much fun and games to be around your Glorious Leader...'_ Hermione bit her lip. "It's certainly... an experience."

Eventually, the time to leave came which led to many disappointed faces. There was a chance for the people of Hekstreet to take photographs while Bellatrix held a short speech. "Your hospitality has humbled me," spoke Bellatrix while the crowd had gone so silent one could hear a pin drop. "And you must remember that you are the backbone of the Walpurgis Union. Not me, not our armies, but you. My people. Together, we will take back our rightful place in his world instead of hiding away like vermin! We are wizards! We are witches! Believe in what the Walpurgis Union is doing. For your children! For your lives! For all of us!"

A cheer went through the crowd as Bellatrix picked up a little girl and raised her up high. The girl, for her part, loved the attention. Then, as it was time to leave, the dark witch waved just once before placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder an apparating the both of them away.

* * *

**23rd of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix's private wing**

With a resounding crack, Bellatrix and Hermione appeared in a lavish sitting room. Tapestries and leather sofas were placed in this spacious with large open windows on one side and a large roaring fireplace on the other. Paintings of wizards past hung from the wall while a decanter of fire-whiskey stood next to the largest sofa.

Hermione had never been to this room of the palace, but, judging from the view of the garden outside the windows, she guessed they had apparated into Bellatrix's private wing.

"Well, little girl," said Bellatrix while pouring two glasses of fire-whiskey. "You've met my people. Do they seem oppressed? Do they seem unhappy? Do they seem deceived? How do they compare with Nixie propaganda, hm?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Our propaganda about your people are just as much a lie as your propaganda is about ours."

"Touche," Bellatrix smirked and handed her a glass of fire-whiskey. Out of politeness, the young witch took the glass but did not sip it.

"I could not help but notice," said Hermione. "That this seemed to be an outing for my benefit. I think you let me see what you wanted me to see."

Bellatrix took a sip from her glass and narrowed her eyes while peeking over the rim. "Merlin," she spoke with annoyance on her voice. "You are hard to please, aren't you? Such a suspicious little thing you are."

"And what about the people who don't agree with the way you're running things, hm?" Hermione challenged while crossing her arms.

"Oh," Bellatrix laughed in response. "You don't usually see those enjoying themselves at parties."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Oh, you're one to preach about the proper treatment of dissidents," said Bellatrix. And yes, Hermione had to admit the dark witch had a point there. Naturally, there were critics of the way Snape ran things on Alliance side too. They were 'dealt with' in a more subtle manner. Publicly smeared, discredited, disgraced... and sometimes they would disappear. "Snivellus and I are not as different from each other as we both would want."

Before the conversation could go any further, the was a knock on the door. The heavy oaken double doors leading into the sitting room were pushed open when Augustus Rookwood entered. There was a measure of concern on his face as he quickly walked up to them. "Bella, it's good you've returned to the palace. We have a situation that requires your immediate attention," he spoke solemnly.

"I suppose that means our attendance of the evening festival in St. Petersburg is canceled?" Bellatrix sighed while not bothering to hide her annoyance. "Such a pity. Looks like our date for the evening is canceled too, little girl. What happened?"

"A group of insurgents from the village of Zauberbach on the Austrian-Czech border have captured three of our scouts and have taken them to their village," said Augustus. "They have issued a ransom for their safe return."

Zauberbach... Hermione let the name roll through her head a couple of times. Where had she heard that name before? Then, it hit her.

Bellatrix let out a sigh of annoyance. "Why are you bothering me with this?!" she hissed. "Send in a squad of battle-mages to rescue our people and burn that little pimple of a village to the ground as punishment for this insult!"

"You can't," spoke Hermione. "Zauberbach is in the middle of one of the neutral zones, as stipulated by the Treaty of Vienna in 2000. I should know, I helped draft it."

"What the bloody hell do I care?!" Bellatrix shrieked back. "They have attacked our people and our response will be swift and merciless, treaty or no treaty!"

Augustus shifted uncomfortably. "That is why I am here. I needed your permission to break the treaty. You've made your feelings on the matter quite clear. I will make the arrangements immediately."

An incredulous Hermione looked on when Augustus turned on his heels and was about to leave. "Wait!" Hermione cried out, causing Augustus to stop in his tracks and the dark witch to spin around. "You can't send troops into the neutral zone! The Phoenix Alliance will see it as a provocation!"

Bellatrix shrugged. "We'll deal with that when the time comes. I will not let an insult like this stand! Carry out my orders, Augustus."

The young witch's eyes grew wide in dismay. Didn't Bellatrix realize what she was doing? In desperation, Hermione shot forward and grabbed Bellatrix by the arm. The dark witch almost recoiled until Hermione looked her in the eye. "I can save them!" she pleaded.

The dark witch snorted. "Who? Our scouts or the village?"

"Both!" Hermione kept the confidence in her voice in hopes of convincing Bellatrix. "As well as all the lives of soldiers on both sides when the inevitable fighting breaks out. Look, I'm a diplomat. Let me do what I do best! You want me to join your side as a diplomat, right? Then show me some trust. Send me in and I swear I will get them to release your scouts!"

Augustus seemed receptive, looking at Hermione and then at Bellatrix. "Bella," he said. "Why not give her a shot? What do we have to lose?"

"Our guest herself," Bellatrix raised her chin. "It would be a perfect opportunity to try to escape. You are currently polyjuiced, yes, but if you reveal yourself as Hermione Granger, the villagers will have a far more valuable hostage to trade..."

"Please," Hermione stressed. "If you want me to join your side, trust has to start somewhere."

"You haven't earned it yet," Bellatrix sneered while crossing her arms. "You will make the unbreakable vow."

"W-what?" Hermione blinked.

"Consider this your trial by fire," replied Bellatrix while clasping her fore-arm. "Augustus, your wand."

Rookwood nodded and hurried to the two women's side. He tapped their arms with his wand and a tongue of brilliant flame shot from the wand to encircle their hands. "Will you, Hermione Granger, focus on negotiating the release of our captured scouts?"

"I will," replied Hermione with sincerity.

Bellatrix studied her intently for a moment. "You will neither seek escape nor will you willingly reveal your true identity during the negotiations?"

That was some relief. Bellatrix had added 'willingly' so Hermione would survive if the villagers would use something like veritaserum on her. "I promise."

"You will not reveal our plans to attack the village?"

And then, Bellatrix threw her a curve-ball. It would be much harder to convince the people of the village to give up their crazy plan of ransoming Walpurgis soldiers if they knew a group of battle-mages was on their way. She'd have to be craftier about it.

"Agreed," said Hermione.

"Very well," replied Bellatrix before clapping her hands. A house-elf appeared and, after getting his orders, returned later with a scroll and a wax seal. The dark witch walked to the desk and tapped the paper with her wand, causing it to briefly glow. Lastly, she stamped the paper with the wax seal and handed the scroll to Hermione. "This letter of marque gives you the authority to negotiate on my behalf. You have until the stroke of midnight to secure the release of the scouts. The moment the clock strikes twelve, my battle-magi will swarm into the village and burn it and anyone in it to the ground."

Hermione nodded grimly. She had her assignment. Now to get it done.

* * *

**23rd of August 2003 – No man's land between the Czech and Austrian border – Near zauberbach village.**

After travel through three separate portkeys and meeting up with the commander of the battle-mages, Hermione found herself deposited in the no-man's land between the Czech-Austrian border.

This had been one of the first places where forces of the Walpurgis Union and the Phoenix Alliance met and, subsequently, one of the first battlefields. This has been one of the places in the war which had seen some of the worst of the fighting. The landscape all around her reflected this.

The sun was setting on a great swath of dead soil, broken trees and scorched earth. The wind swept through the impressively large impact crates while remnants of the magic the two armies had been subjecting each other too still hung in the air. The atmosphere was oppressive as a result. Every so often, she could see a blue crackle of dormant magic discharging along a dead tree sticking out of the ground. It would take decades before something would grow here again. Hermione herself had never been at the front lines, but if these were the results...

As for the Muggles, they were none the wiser. Powerful magics folded the land upon itself, causing any Muggle to pass over the nearby motorways from one end of the no-man's land to the other without it being revealed. The effort of hiding the results of the war all over Europe had almost been solely the Phoenix Alliance's responsibility, as the Union did next to nothing to hide battlefields from the Muggles. She supposed that was another tactic; hiding results of the heavy fighting cost the Alliance a lot of resources which could then not be used in the actual fighting itself.

Zauberbach was smack-dab in the middle of this no-man's land. She was quite familiar with the history of the town and regarded it as one of the many tragedies of this five-year war. Being in a political hot-zone, both the Czech and Austrian ministry pulled their hands of it. The village's own indecisiveness meant it was being actively targeted by both sides. Lastly, when the Alliance and the Union agreed upon a cease-fire in the region, they had been seen as a complication and conveniently swept under the rug. All in all, Zauberbach and its people had been screwed over no less than three times in a row and were currently stateless.

Hermione carefully stepped towards the village. Zauberbach stood in stark contrast to the pleasant and cozy Hekstreet she had been to this very morning. She could already see the devastation from the distance. Almost all houses had seen some sort of damage and there were several burned out husks on the village's edge. She could see the occasional flare of a magical shield around the village; it seemed that they were expecting trouble, but Hermione considered it foolish to think that this minor shield would protect them from Bellatrix's wrath.

Some haggard wizards and witches could be seen mulling about the streets and it didn't take long for Hermione to be spotted. Two wizards and three witches left the village with wands drawn. Immediately, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, put her hands on the back of her head and sank to her knees. While four of them surrounded her, one witch carefully approach her to pat her down.

"No wand on her," said the witch. "Only this scroll."

The young witch had to admit to being a bit nervous here. Though she had confidence in her ability, these were desperate people who would be capable of desperate deeds. She found a wand being pressed into her back as they led her into the village. The inside of Zauberbach looked even worse than the outside; muck-covered roads, a broken well, ruined walls, and the people... sheer hatred in their eyes when they looked at her. Strangers obviously weren't appreciated here.

She was led into what seemed to be some sort of administrative office. The town-hall, perhaps? Or maybe the local law enforcement office? Papers were scattered about, but nobody had apparently bothered cleaning them up for months. A man wearing a long dusty coat sat behind a desk and he looked much older than his years. He stroked his beard as Hermione was being led in front of him.

"She was alone," said the witch who led her here. "We scanned for others, but found none."

"So, a tourist, then," spoke the man with an edge of sarcasm. "I am Zacharias Zauberflote, mayor of this beleaguered little town. I take it your visit has something to do with the scouts currently in our local dungeon, yes?"

Hermione nodded and handed him the scroll. "I am Samantha Morris. I have been given mandate by Lady Bellatrix Black to negotiate the release of her scouts."

"Are you now?" Zacharias handed the scroll to an assistant. "I find it curious, really. We plead to be heard by the great powers in the wizarding world. We share our plight, we beg for supplies, our children cry out in hunger now that our food-stores are all but empty and all of that falls of deaf ears. But now that we are holding three of your soldiers, you suddenly have all the time in the world for us."

' _It's ten o'clock. You have no more than two hours'_ Hermione thought wryly. She'd have to work fast. "Does it truly matter?" said Hermione. "We are here now and we are listening."

The assistant was done reading and analyzing the paper, having gasped after confirming Bellatrix's magical signature. "It's legit," she blinked. "She really is here on Lady Black's authority."

Zacharias closed his eyes and seemed... relieved? "Finally," he spoke. "Our pleas have finally reached the highest possible levels."

"Naturally, we want our scouts released," said Hermione. "First of all, I need to confirm that they are in good health."

Zacharias agreed and, after five minutes later, led the scouts out on parade. Two women, one man, all clad in a Walpurgis uniform. They seemed in good health, though they did not speak. Hermione suspected they had either been stunned or brought under the imperius curse. Otherwise, they seemed to be in good health. That was a relief, as it would make negotiations easier.

"Let's get straight to the point," said Hermione. "What are your demands?"

Zacharius slammed his fist on the desk, causing Hermione to start. "We want to live! After years of war and being trapped in this forsaken place, we have no more food left in our stores. Neither side will trade with us, neither side will allow us to travel into their territory because they think we're spies for the other side! If something doesn't happen soon, this village will hold nothing but corpses! Our demand is that we want to keep on living! We need supplies, we need food, we need to be able to travel freely!"

Upon hearing this desperate plea, Hermione's sympathy increased tenfold. These people were only guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time and had gotten caught in the middle of an ugly war they had never asked for. Her keen mind was running overtime, thinking of a possible solution. Sure, getting them supplies or even access through the border would be a temporary solution at best. A plan started to form in her mind.

"How attached are you to this village?" Hermione asked.

Zacharias cocked his head sideways. "I don't know follow your meaning, miss Morris."

"What I am suggesting, is that the Walpurgis Union will allow you to evacuate your village into their territory," said Hermione. "What I am offering you is an end to your stateless existence."

"As prisoners, you mean?" asked Zacharias. "I doubt Lady Black will forgive us for capturing her scouts."

"No," said Hermione. "As citizens. I can arrange for the construction of a new community for you at a location of your choosing."

"But... this is our home," said Zacharias.

Hermione nodded. "If there's one thing I've learned about the wizarding world, it's that there are so many traditionalists who hold the past as sacred and forget to look towards the future. Look around you. Look hard. Do you see a future for this village?"

Zacharias thought for a moment. "No," he finally spoke, apparently a difficult admission.

"But your people _do_ have a future," said Hermione. "You have been wronged, yes, but now I am offering you and your people a way out of this mess. All you have to do is take it."

The four people in the room exchanged glances. If Hermione had read the situation well, she was certain they were going to accept. The next hour was spent discussing the finer details. Locations, value of the rebuilt property, compensation for almost five years of being shelled. Small stuff, really. However, the hard part was still to come. When they had agreed on a potential location in the Czech republic, Hermione had to maneuver her next question carefully. "Zacharias," she started. "Lady Black is willing to take a risk by helping you. But, you will have to show her a sign of good faith. If you release all three of the scouts, you will prove your sincerity."

Zacharias narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "Those three scouts are the only leverage we have. If we let them go, how do we know that you will keep your word?"

"Lady Black has given me full authority to act on her behalf," said Hermione, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "That means any agreement I draft is equal to a decree from Lady Black herself."

It was a lie and she knew it. There would be nothing stopping Bellatrix from sending in a force to wipe out the village the moment the three scouts were released. She just hoped she could convince the dark witch otherwise when she'd get back to the palace. It was a risk, yes, but a risk worth taking.

Zacharias put his finger to his lips and give her a stare that pierced down into her very soul. He slowly got up from his chair. "Give me a moment to discuss it with my people," he said. That said, the four persons were out the door. Wasting no time, Hermione used one of the scrolls on his desk to draft an agreement for both her and Zacharias to sign the moment he'd step out of the room. When she was done, she kept a nervous eye on the clock. Ten past half twelve. Quarter to twelve. Oh, god, the battle-magi were getting ready to strike. Ten to twelve... nine to twelve... eight to twelve...

"We have an agreement!" sounded a smiling Zacharias as he threw open the double doors leading into his office. Hermione let out a breath she didn't knew she was holding.

* * *

**24th of August 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix's private wing**

Once again, Hermione found herself back in Bellatrix's private sitting room, this time under scrutiny of both Bellatrix and Augustus. A now rather tired Hermione sat close to the fire, taking a draught from her glass of fire-whiskey. After today, she figured she had earned it.

"Well," Bellatrix chuckled. "You certainly like cutting it close. As it stands, mind explaining why we now have a group of dirty vagabonds knocking on our door?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She made her promises to the people of Zauberbach, but now it was time to convince Bellatrix that she had made the best possible deal for both parties. She started off telling about the state of the village and some of the details about her conversation with Zacharias. However, judging from her bored expression, she was already losing Bellatrix's interest. Time to adjust her tactic.

"Look at this way," said Hermione. "The scouts are free, the treaty remains intact. Yes, there is a cost to rebuild the village in your territory, but those poor long-suffering people are going to be grateful to you for helping them. They gain a new home and you gain loyal subjects who will tell everybody about your generosity. I'm sure your propagandists can make good use of that."

The room fell silent while Bellatrix stood up and strolled towards the window. Meanwhile, Augustus raised his glass to Hermione. "You're good," he smirked. "You're very, very good."

Truth be told, though Bellatrix could certainly benefit, she'd done this for the poor people of Zauberbach, the scouts and the people who would have died if that particular front would have opened again. Sure, the treaty was safe, but the fate of the people of Zauberbach was still in Bellatrix's hands.

' _Please don't make a liar out of me',_ Hermione felt her jaw tense up when she regarded Bellatrix by the window. The dark witch dipped her head slightly, rubbing her chin as she was seemingly lost in thought. Every second seemed to be an eternity. Had she convinced Bellatrix?

Bellatrix kept pacing a moment longer, until she finally gave her answer. "We will honor our agreement," she said. "It's not as if we can't pay the bill. At least I should be happy that you didn't give away St. Petersburg, little girl."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. And suddenly, she felt just how damn tired she was.

"Crisis averted, it seems," Augustus nodded. "Scouts released, gained new supporters and avoided a costly conflict. I call that a victory."

"Yes," Bellatrix winked at her. "Better go to bed now. There's more festivals and more early wake-up calls for the rest of the week."

Hermione let out a strangled groan upon hearing this, which visibly pleased Bellatrix to the point of being giddy.

"Oh, don't fret, little girl," Bellatrix winked. "We're going to have _so_ much fun together."

"If god exists, he hates me," Hermione muttered under her breath. Thankfully, Bellatrix let her go without further teasing. By the time the young witch reached her quarters, she was ready to throw herself onto the bed and sleep for a week. She decided to take a nice hot shower first, figuring she'd earned one. Hermione stepped back into the room when she was done and magically dried her hair. After putting a clean set of clothes for tomorrow on her chair, she changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed. It was then that she remembered the little rag-doll was still in her coat pocket.

Hermione chuckled to herself when she held out the little Bellatrix rag-doll. Certainly a lot cuter than the real thing. She put it next to her pillow, rolled to her side and looked at it for a bit.

 _'She listened to me.'_ The realization hit her like a sledge-hammer to the face. What happened today was profound. Hermione had negotiated an agreement, Bellatrix had listened to her reasoning and had agreed to honor the agreement she had crafted. The dark witch, this cruel and capricious woman whom had tormented her in past, present and certainly future... had _listened_ to her.

' _She listened to me,'_ Hermione let this implication roll through her mind before sleep claimed her.

* * *

**24th of August 2003 – Norwich, United Kingdom – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

Snape started awake at his desk, having had a rather difficult night. Truth be told, he had become rather insomatic over the past few years. He felt his cup and found the tea was still warm, so he couldn't have nodded off for very long. The black-clad wizard took a sip and once again settled his eyes on an interesting report from Austria.

His plan to provoke the Wallies into breaking the treaty of Vienna had been thwarted. His agent in Zauberbach had done her best to goad the local leader into capturing a Wallie scouting party. Certainly, he had expected Bellatrix to send in troops to wipe the village off the face of the Earth with a tremendous show of force. And that would have been all excuse he would have needed to re-open up that particular front. When Bellatrix would move troops to the Czech border, he'd look for weaknesses to exploit elsewhere.

It was a gamble of a tactic, yes. He put down his tea and wondered. Just wondered. All these lives, throwing them away like an errant chesspiece. He had never been like that before, not when Dumbledore had still been alive. Snape knew quite well he had never been a very pleasant person, but he had always done his best to save lives while spying for Dumbledore. How come he was so eager to sacrifice people now?

He grunted in agony while he grabbed his forehead with both hands. For a sliver of a second, he could see impossible images of incomprehensible shapes folded over each other, and as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

No. No, he was on the right path. It was Bellatrix and her insanity which had made this all a necessity. If she got her way, the wizarding world would be no more. She had to be stopped. She had to be ended by any means necessary!

He once again focused on the report. His agent reported that, rather than a battalion of battle-mages, she had sent in a lone diplomat. One Samantha Morris. Not only had this diplomat thwarted his scheme, but she had also cut off any future attempts by letting the villagers into Walpurgis territory. Naturally, his agent had balked and mentioned she would attempt to flee in her last report. She hadn't been heard from since, so he guessed her attempt hadn't ended to well.

What was Bellatrix up to? Diplomacy had never been her weapon of choice. But if she had managed to find a diplomat of skill like this Samantha Morris, Snape had to pick up the pace and shore up his own diplomatic efforts.

Loathe as he was to admit it, he needed to have miss Granger back in the fold. He clapped his hands twice and a house-elf appeared. It looked up at him with a pathetic smile as it waited for his command. "Find Auror Potter. Tell him to come to my office at his earliest convenience. I have an assignment for him."

An assignment far away from the front, as usual. He hadn't protected Lily's boy for years only to have him fall to a stray spell. Besides, who else would be qualified enough to find miss Granger and convince her to return?


	8. Higher Love

**9th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's quarters.**

The past weeks, Hermione had mostly given up on attempting to escape and had resigned herself to her fate for now. She could see no more avenues to explore. Instead, she had decided to make herself useful.

The fact that Bellatrix had listened to her advise and had honored the agreement she had crafted had struck a deep chord in her to a point that it had given her an odd sense of hope that this part of her life could have a happy ending just yet. Late August there had been three more days of Bellatrix dragging her along to festivals until the deranged woman apparently had gotten bored with her. The day after, Hermione had approached Augustus Rookwood to discuss the training of future Walpurgis diplomats. Augustus had kindly provided her with dossiers of promising candidates.

Of these candidates, Hermione had handpicked a few young wizards and witches who were loyal to the Walpurgis Union, but also had a strong desire to end the war. The past weeks, Hermione had been teaching them tricks of the trade, how to make convincing arguments, how to bring people together and practicing potential situations with them through role-playing. The results were encouraging, even if she had experienced quite a few sleepless nights when she had first started.

She told herself that she wasn't helping the enemy, but was furthering the cause of peace. Even though she knew she was lying to herself, and she definitely was not planning on joining the Union, it felt good being useful again. Hearing from the villagers of Neu Zauberbach, now located in the Czech republic, was a boost to her morale as well. She'd helped people. And that felt good.

Hermione was sitting at her table after having enjoyed a proper English breakfast as interpreted by her favorite Ukrainian chef. Close, only somewhat off... and yet so entirely delicious.

Her eyes drifted over to the diary of Pandora Lovegood. She hadn't seen Luna in weeks, not since she had left on this secret mission Bellatrix had sent her on, but she had been thinking a lot about what she had told her.

Trust, but verify. Hermione had been looking into the Tunguska Event and its connection to wizards... and Hermione had found exactly zero evidence for it. From her position at the palace, she had access to all kind of documents and sources. There were no official records available on any experiment or a cover-up in either the Ministry or Durmstrang archives, nor any allusion to it. It caused Hermione to wonder if everything she had heard wasn't just more of the usual nonsense Luna was known for. True, her mother's sudden death was a tragic accident, but it was just that... an accident. Whatever Luna was trying to achieve, Hermione would be better off ignoring it.

There was a knock on the door. Hermione put down her fork. "Yes?"

"It's Alexei," sounded from the other side of the door. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Do come in, Alexei."

The door opened and the smiling guard captain entered her room. "Thank you. Lady Black has requested your presence in her office. I was sent to fetch you and bring you to her immediately. She won't take no for an answer. Her exact words were 'drag her here by the hair if she refuses'."

"Of course she did," Hermione closed her eyes, wondering just what horrors Bellatrix was planning to subject her to today. "Lead on, then."

The two of them stepped into the hallways and headed towards Bellatrix's office.

"Teaching any more classes today?" Alexei asked.

"Well, that depends on what Bellatrix wants from me," Hermione replied. "Do you have any idea what's on her mind?"

"I have no idea. Lady Black's machinations aren't exactly on my pay-grade. But word is that Luna Lovegood returned to the palace last evening," said Alexei. "It might have something to do with that."

That was news to her. She wondered what she should say to Luna just as they approached Bellatrix's private wing. The guards let them pass and Alexei led her into Bellatrix's office. The dark witch was already there, sitting behind her heavy oaken desk while letting her quill fly over a piece of paper. "Thank you, Alexei," said Bellatrix without looking up. "Leave us."

Alexei clicked his heels, bowed respectfully and left the room after giving Hermione an encouraging smile. Hermione just sighed and started walking forward. ' _Right, time to get this over with.'_

Bellatrix's office was spacious and had a high-ceiling, like all the other rooms in her private wing which she had seen. The desk stood near the large windows looking down upon the garden, and was lined by bookcases containing all manner of leather-bound tomes. A large and luxurious fireplace gave the office a cozy feel to it. A lazy reading chair was put right next to it. On the marble floor were several Persian carpets, as well as what looked to be a Yeti pelt laid out near the fire

Hermione sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Bellatrix's desk and scraped her throat.

"Yes, yes, yes, I know you're there," Bellatrix muttered while scribbling on her scroll without looking up.

The only sound in the room was a quill sliding over a piece of parchment... until Hermione was startled when the clock mounted on the wall behind Bellatrix's desk struck eight and a cheerful wooden cuckoo-bird came rushing out of the clock. This must have been the clock Bellatrix had bought in Switzerland.

So Hermione waited and waited... until Bellatrix finally spoke. Or rather, muttered to herself. "Hm. Species of owl, thirteen letters."

Hermione blinked. "You're... doing a crossword?"

Bellatrix frowned. "Yes. What else would I be doing?"

"Of course," Hermione felt a headache welling up. "Anyway, I believe you're looking for the 'Spectacled Owl'."

Bellatrix's head suddenly snapped up at her. The dark witch shot her a glare so foul that it could curdle milk. "Did I ask you for help?!" she hissed with a low voice. "DID I?! Argh, it's ruined now!"

Hermione decided that she, indeed, had developed a headache when the dark witch angrily crumpled up the parchment and tossed it into the fire. "Please," Hermione sighed. "Just tell me what you want."

Bellatrix sat back in her chair and nodded at her. "Actually, I have a surprise for you! And I'm sure you're really going to like it."

"A surprise?" Hermioned asked with some dread. "I shudder to think."

"Oh, you'll love it," Bellatrix grinned.

Silence.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

"Well what?"

"What's the surprise?"

"No, no, no, not like this!" Bellatrix seemed dismayed. "There has to be build-up!"

"Oh, dear lord," Hermione muttered while lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Guess!" Bellatrix clapped her hands. "I'll tell you if you're hot or cold."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a sigh. ' _Right, Hermione. Smile and nod. Just smile and nod.'_ She thought for a moment. "A broom."

"Cold," said Bellatrix. "Two more tries."

"A noose," Hermione said.

Upon hearing this, Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "You're being rather morbid today. Still. Cold. One more try."

"Please, just tell me, the suspense is killing me," she lied.

Bellatrix sighed heavily and threw up her hands in frustration. "Honestly, you try to do something nice for someone and this is what you get. Ungrateful little witch! LOVEGOOD!"

Hermione snapped her head towards the side-door leading to one of Bellatrix's private sitting rooms. Indeed, out popped Luna, who gave her a friendly smile. "Hello, Hermione," said Luna. "Sorry I left without saying goodbye. But I was fetching some guests."

Hermione frowned and looked at Bellatrix for a moment. "Guests?" she asked.

"Yes, guests," said Luna. "I would have brought them to see you yesterday evening, but it was better to undo the memory charms first. We brought in some experts from Durmstrang to make sure we got them all."

Memory Charms?

No. No, it couldn't be.

Seeing the faces of the two 'guests' as they walked through the door caused tears to start rolling over her cheeks. There was the face of the loving father whom had brought her to school every day on the way to his practice when she'd been a child. The face of the loving mother whom had read with her in the evenings, always having new books and stories to explore. The faces of loving parents whom had been so sad to see her leave them for Hogwarts after having discovered that she was a magical child. The faces of the people had not seen for five long years.

"MUM! DAD!" Hermione shot towards them, only to take her parents into a tight embrace. Oh, she never wanted to let go of them again. Her parents were just as happy to see her as she was to see them. Hermione clenched her eyes shut and held onto them for dear life; she hadn't felt this happy in ages.

She looked over her shoulder for a moment, tears of happiness still running over her cheeks. There was absolutely an ulterior motive here; Bellatrix was still trying to get her to defect, after all. Or maybe she just wanted to placate her, or put her at ease as she was still being held prisoner. But right now, that simply didn't matter. For this gift which Bellatrix had given her, Hermione was grateful beyond anything.

"Thank you," she tearfully told the dark witch with the utmost of sincerity. "Thank you!"

Bellatrix pursed her lips, looking rather uncomfortable at what was happening in her office. "Uhm, yes, well," she shifted slightly. "Just... go blubber somewhere else! You're leaking tears all over my carpets. Just... shoo. SHOO! Bugger off!"

Luna led them into the sitting room where they could talk. Hermione took a seat between her parents and alternated between hugging the both of them in turns. "Right," said Luna. "I should leave you alone. I'll am going to give Lady Black my report. I'll be in her office should you need me."

Once Luna had left, Hermione turned to her parents. Five years was a long time, and even though her father had a few more grey hairs, they looked just as she remembered them. "Have you been treated well?" Hermione asked with some trepidation. Bellatrix Black wasn't known for being kind and gentle, after all.

"Like royalty," replied her mother, Emma Granger. "This palace is absolutely amazing. And you live here?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not exactly."

"It's strange," said her father, Jack Granger. "It's... like I've lived two lives. Jack Granger... Wendell Wilkins... It sort of blends all together. That nice girl Luna told us that's a side-effect of the memory restorations and that it'll pass eventually, but it's still... strange. I, uh, I'm definitely Jack Granger, right?"

Hermione could only smile and nod while she dried her tears.

"Look at you," said her mother, while she gently took both her hands and squeezed slightly. "You're a grown woman."

"No, seriously," said Jack Granger. "I _am_ Jack Granger, right? This isn't where I find out I have the memories of a third person. Or that I'm two persons fused together. I remember this episode of Voyager where Tuvok and Neelix were..."

"Dad!" Hermione chuckled through her tears.

"Right, right, sorry," Jack Granger bit his lip while Hermione let go of her mother's hands. The young witch turned her back to her parents and leaned onto the windowsill. The sun poured into the room and warmed her body while Hermione mentally prepared herself to say what she wanted to say. Truth be told, she had been practicing this very speech in front of the mirror far too many times, but that still didn't make it any easier.

"What I've done to you both is unforgivable," Hermione whispered softly while she turned around. Already she could see both her parents sit up straighter, no doubt to politely deny it. "No, please, hear me out," she added. "I've uprooted your lives. I've not only violated your minds, but I've changed your very identities."

"You did it to protect us," said Emma. "Miss Lovegood told us a little bit of what has been going on the wizarding world, but it's still rather confusing. I get the feeling she left out a lot of details."

"Yeah, that's Luna for you," Hermione shook her head. She raised her head, looked her parents in the eye and sat down on the chair opposite to them. "Alright. No more secrets. I'll tell you everything. Let's start at the beginning."

Over the many years, she had kept so much from her parents. It was partly not to worry them, partly to protect them and, in some cases things were just too strange or awkward to explain. This time, she told them everything. About the rise of Voldemort, the horcrux hunt, the battle of Hogwarts, the rise of the Walpurgis Union and the Phoenix Alliance to oppose them. The escalation of the war and its terrible price, as well as the role she and her friends had played in it.

"I altered your memories," said Hermione. "It was only meant to be for a few months, maybe a year. I never expected this war to escalate so badly. I was so caught up in... I..."

It was then that her mother leaned forward and embraced her tightly. Hermione closed her eyes and simply enjoyed her mother's closeness. "I can't imagine all the things you've gone through the past five years. Or even the years before that," said her mother. "But you're not alone anymore."

Hearing those words gave Hermione more comfort than she had felt in this past five long years.

"Part of me wishes that you had never become a witch," said her mother.

"Believe me," Hermione replied. "There's been plenty of times I wished for that myself the past five years."

"My little girl, a diplomat," Jack Granger spoke proudly while rubbing his chin. "I always knew you'd do great things with your life, puppet."

Hermione didn't know what warmed her heart more: her father's sincere expression of pride or hearing his nickname for her.

"Maybe you can use some of that diplomacy to get our old house back?" asked Jack.

That made Hermione feel a pang of regret. "I visited Hampstead Gardens last time I was in London. It was... strange to see someone else living in the house I grew up in."

"Can't you just... you know, hocus pocus them away?" Jack asked.

That made Hermione chuckle. "Sorry, dad. It doesn't work that way."

"Truth be told," said her mother. "I have no idea what's going to happen to us. We still have the house in Australia, but miss Lovegood told me we can't go back there now. We no longer have our London home or our practice."

"What do you mean?" her father replied. "She's coming back with us to London and we'll get our house back."

Hermione closed her eyes. "I wish I could... it's complicated, but I can't leave the palace. I... am a prisoner of war."

Both her parents gasped in shock upon hearing this. So far, this was the only detail of her story which she had left out and purely for the reason that she didn't know how to tell them. "I was captured and brought here in May," said Hermione. "Don't worry, I've been treated quite well, all things considered."

"You're a _prisoner of war_?!" sounded her father. To say that he was outraged, was an understatement. "I thought you were here because of, you know, diplomatic things! Oh, I'm going to have some stern words with that Black woman! Don't worry, Hermione! Once I'm done talking to her, you'll be free to go."

"Dad!" Hermione shouted as she bolted for the door. Once she'd realized just what her father was about to do, he was already halfway towards the door leading back into Bellatrix's office. The young witch passed her father and blocked the door by pressing her back against it. "Dad, that is a really, _REALLY_ bad idea!"

"Oh, come now," said Jack. "What's the worst she could do? Turn me into a frog?"

"Dad!" Hermione hissed. "If you give Bellatrix Black lip, being turned into a frog will be the least of your worries."

"Well," Jack frowned. "We have to be English about this. How about a strongly worded letter of complaint?"

"Don't even think about it!"

"I think Hermione knows best in this case, Jack," said her mother. Once her father withdrew from the door to sit back down on the sofa, Hermione could relax again and returned to her seat. She was just... so happy to see her parents again, despite her guilt over altering their memories.

"Your memories. I did it because I love you and I wanted you to be safe. It was only supposed to be for a short while. And then this war broke out and it just... kept going. When I was ready to leave the wizarding world, I intended to find you. Of course, I managed to get myself captured by the enemy right then and there," said Hermione. "Honestly, I'm surprised you're not more upset about it."

Jack crossed his arms and shifted forward to give her a thoughtful fatherly look. "I won't lie, I was plenty upset at first, but..." he said and shared a smile with her mother. It was the sort of smile which made Hermione oddly curious.

"Hermione," said her mother. "Your spell had some unintended consequences. Something which would have never happened if you hadn't altered our memories."

* * *

**9th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace gardens**

Hermione was intrigued when a guard led her and her parents to the palace gardens outside. On the way there, her parents were smiling at each other but were vexingly not sharing the why of it with her. However, the reason for it became quite apparent when they entered the gardens to meet up with Luna.

Near to Luna, running around the garden from bush to bush, was a rather active four-year old girl with messy brown hair. The girl wore blue dungarees, a pink shirt and a pair of well-worn and well-loved child's sneakers.

Hermione, being the smart witch she was, put two-and-two together the moment she saw the girl. The stunned Hermione felt her eyes go slightly watery while she folded her hands in front of her mouth and felt her breath quickening. "I... I have a _little sister!_ "

Her parents stood with her while they kept their distance from the playing child, giving Hermione a moment to get to terms with suddenly having a younger sibling.

"When we moved to Australia," said Jack. "We got the strong sense that there was something missing from our lives. A yearning for a child we never had or... just couldn't remember as it turned out."

"Her name's Ophelia," said Emma. "I had to undergo hormone treatments to be able to have her, but she was worth every single bit of discomfort. She's such a delightful child."

"This is why we weren't angry with you, puppet," said Jack. "If you hadn't altered our memories, our little Ophelia would never have existed."

Watching the little girl play, so many emotions shot through Hermione's mind. Growing up, she had always wanted to have a little brother or sister. And now, here she was. Immediately after, she felt a pang of regret; she had effectively uprooted her little sister from the only life she had known until now. Until today, her name had been Ophelia Wilkins, not Granger. The second life she had created for her parents, while false to her and them, had been the only truth Ophelia had ever known.

"Come on," Jack hooked an arm around Hermione. "Let's go meet your sister."

Hermione could only nod weakly while being dragged towards the playing girl. Her mother attracted Ophelia's attention, and the little girl with the messy brown hair turned towards them. The moment she spotted Hermione, the young witch was under intense scrutiny from her sister. Slowly, Hermione bent down to one knee to look her sister in the eye. Ophelia, in the meantime, started to giggle. "You look just like me!" spoke the girl, her speech an odd mix of the Queen's English and thick Australian.

"Ophelia, sweetie," said their mother as she bent forward to ruffle Ophelia's hair. "This is Hermione."

"I... I'm your sister," Hermione spoke, barely getting the words out of her mouth through her stammers.

Ophelia cocked her head sideways and gave her an incredulous look. First, she turned her gaze towards her parents for confirmation. A slight nod from mum was all the convincing she needed. The girl let out a whoop and flew into Hermione's arms, demanding to be picked up. Hermione did so, holding her... her little sister tightly. She almost lost it when Ophelia kissed her on the cheek.

"H-how..."

It was then that a smiling Luna sauntered towards them and announced her presence with a brief scrape of the throat. "Little Ophelia is the reason I found your parents so quickly," said Luna. "It was a hunch, really. There's a common side-effect to false memory charms which makes those charmed miss whatever it is that has been blocked from their memories, even if they can't actively remember what it is. And considering that you've basically blocked memories of their child, it seemed reasonable to me that your parents would try to fill that void by having another. I then found them because Ophelia is a magical child. She's a witch, just like you."

"I'm a witch!" Ophelia proclaimed loudly and proudly.

"Luna," said Hermione with the utmost of sincerity. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Luna frowned.

"I'm sorry that I ever doubted your friendship."

That made Luna smile. "Well," she said. "I've been given permission by Lady Black to invite your family to stay at the palace for the time being."

Speak of the devil, Hermione noticed something from the corner of her eye on one of the balconies above. There, standing next to a pillar and looking down on them, was Bellatrix Black. Still holding her sister, Hermione turned her away from her, as if to protect Ophelia from her gaze. But something was off; Bellatrix's expression was... sullen. There was no self-satisfied smirk, angry sneer or wicked cackle. No anger, no malice, no smugness. Her expression seemed to be one of longing and, if Hermione didn't know better, one of envy.

The moment Bellatrix realized she had been spotted, the dark witch turned on her heels and withdrew back inside, leaving Hermione to wonder what had happened.

Honestly, she didn't really have time to figure out Bellatrix's antics now that she had been reunited with her family. For the first time in a long while, she felt blissfully content.

* * *

**12th of September 2003 – Brisbane, Australia – Wallaby Motel, outskirts of Brisbane.**

Harry Potter put down his suitcase after closing to door to his home away from home for the time being. The Phoenix Alliance certainly had spared no expense on his accommodations, he considered with a touch of sarcasm as he explored the relatively small motel room. After all, he even had his very own broken tea-kettle and a room with a view... on the picturesque dumpster right next to the motel.

Still, he wasn't here for the room. His mission was far more important; finding Hermione. When Snape had first summoned him to his office and told him his mission, he had flat out refused. At first, at least. If Hermione wanted to be free of this madness, that was her choice.

' _As usual, Potter, you are missing the point,'_ Snape had told him.

' _How am I missing the point?'_ Harry had retorted. ' _If she wants to get away from the war and the wizarding world, that is her choice.'_

' _Fact is, Potter, miss Granger will never get away from the war. She is a witch and one of great fame,'_ Snape had shot back. ' _Like it or not, even if she is to withdraw into the Muggle world, she will remain to be a potential target. We cannot protect her in the Muggle world, but we can within the Alliance. Convince her to come back. Make whatever offer is necessary, but bring her back into the fold.'_

Though Harry didn't like it one bit, Snape was right on one thing; the wizarding world never forgets. And even though it was going against Hermione's wishes, she and her parents would be safest with the Alliance.

So that was why he was here. To find Hermione. To bring her back. He just had no idea what he was going to tell her.

Still, something didn't sit well with him. It had been about five months since Hermione had left for Australia and so far there had been not a word from her. That would either mean that Hermione hadn't found her parents yet and was still looking, or that she had found her parents and had chosen not to tell him and Ron. Honestly, he was getting a bit worried for his dear friend.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door. This wasn't an ordinary knock, but more like something smashing into the door with great force. Harry looked up. "Hello?" he called out.

Immediately, there was a second bang on the door, strong enough to rattle the hinges. Harry drew his wand and carefully approached the door. It wouldn't be the first time some Wallie had tried to kill him as a prize to offer to Bellatrix. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door, reached out and undid the lock. Quickly and while pointing out his wand, Harry ripped the door open... only to find a rather surly looking kangaroo standing in front of his door.

"Right," said Harry while the Kangaroo gave him an impatient glare. "Only in Australia."

The kangaroo shuffled forward slightly, and Harry spotted a piece of paper sticking out of its pouch. Not exactly trusting of this beast, Harry carefully reached over to snatch the piece of paper from the kangaroo. He unfolded it and found it to be a message from the Australian auror he had been in contact with.

" _Hello mister Potter (and no, I'm not writing out G'day),_

_First of all, welcome to wonderful Australia and I hope you will enjoy your stay in our beautiful country. I have taken the liberty of looking into your case ahead of time. We've consulted with the international Port-key hubs and found no record of any Hermione Granger or someone fitting her description having traveled through there. Considering she wished to remain hidden, it is likely that she traveled by Muggle airplane instead. We have our sources working on that, but that will take a bit longer to check. Rest assured, mister Potter, if Hermione Granger is in Australia, we will find her._

_I look forward to our meeting at the Ministry tomorrow. Should you need anything before that, feel free give a return message to Nolly._

_Yours truly,_

_Auror Rollo Quambone_

_P.S. Nolly constantly hungers for eggs, but please don't feed her any. It makes her fart up a storm."_

Harry shook his head. Kangaroo-post; the wizarding world would never cease to amaze him. In truth, he was looking forward to taking some time to explore the wizarding Australia. Rather than being centered around urban areas and magically hiding among the Muggles like the wizards in the UK did, Australian wizards were mostly found in rural areas and clustered around vibrant magical communities. In fact, the Australian Ministry itself was quite a bit out in the sticks.

Harry immediately admonished himself; there'd be plenty of time to play tourist _after_ finding Hermione. This wasn't going to be an easy task; the only lead he had was that, at some point, some British folks moved to Australia in 1997. He didn't even know their aliases and could only hope that the Australian Ministry had some tricks up their sleeves.

He let himself drop onto the bed, realizing that he might be in the Down-Underverse for quite some time.


	9. Sweet Dreams

**22nd of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace hallways**

Hermione was beyond content. The past couple of weeks, she had been mostly catching up with her parents and spent time getting to know her little sister. Oh, the simple pleasure of family dinners; so mundane yet so special after having missed out on them for so long.

As for Ophelia, Her mum had told her that she was a lot more active than Hermione had been at that age and she wasn't kidding. Ophelia could usually be found running around the palace. She was very clever, very adventurous and loved exploring every nook and cranny.

Her playful little sister Ophelia was simply a joy and had made all the guilt of having altered her parents' memories vanish in the wind. Ophelia had come to love Hermione as much she did her, always inviting her to come along with her many adventures. As the palace had a daycare center, Ophelia was never lacking for friends, but her newly found big sister had become number one in her life.

If it wasn't for a summons from Bellatrix, Hermione would probably running after her breathless little sister right now. Still, she wondered what the dark witch wanted of her; she hadn't had any sort of interaction with her ever since the day she had been reunited with her family. However, she had seen her often. Sometimes, from the corner of her eye, she saw the dark witch looking at her while she was playing with her sister. Sometimes she would lean against a pillar, or watch from a balcony or fly overhead on a broom. The moment Hermione turned her head to look at her, the vile woman would be gone.

Having approached Bellatrix's private wing, the guards nodded and let her in. A quick search revealed that Bellatrix wasn't in her office, so she stepped into the sitting room next to it. When she did so, her heart almost leapt out of her throat. There, sitting cross-legged around a small table, were Bellatrix and Ophelia. The dark witch was looking at the girl while holding a cup of tea. There was a tea service on the table, complete with a tray of biscuits. A floating kettle poured Ophelia a cup.

"Hi, Hermione!" Ophelia greeted cheerfully. Immediately, Hermione rushed to Ophelia's side, ready to intervene and protect her little sister should the dark witch fly off the handle for some reason.

Bellatrix obviously took note of this. "Relax, I'm not going to eat her," she spoke with slight annoyance on her voice.

"What is going on here?" Hermione demanded. "What have you done to my little sister?!" She didn't trust this vile woman one bit. Ophelia was a sweet little girl, the sister she never had while growing up but always wanted. There was no chance in hell that Hermione was going to allow Bellatrix to do anything to harm her.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at Hermione, but remained seated. "Since your powers of observation are sorely lacking today, I will simply tell you that I poured her a cup of tea."

"Minty!" raved Ophelia before taking a sip.

"We were, in fact, having a debate before you barged in here like a gorilla with your knuckles dragging over the carpet," Bellatrix said, closing her statement with a mocking cackle.

"A debate?" Hermione frowned while sitting down next to her sister. "What on Earth would the two of you be debating?"

"Father Christmas," said Bellatrix, as if it would explain everything. Hermione shot her sister a questioning look.

"Bella says that Father Christmas doesn't exist," pouted Ophelia. "But I say that if witches and magic exist, Father Christmas does too!"

"It's just a child's fairytale!" Bellatrix snarled. "There is evidence for the existence of magic by grace that I just showed actual spells to you. There is not a single shred of evidence for Father Christmas."

"Then why do I get presents under the tree at Christmas?!" Ophelia crossed her arms and glared childishly at the dark witch. "It's because Father Christmas leaves them there for me."

"Your _parents_ bought those presents for you in a store and put them under the tree," Bellatrix rolled her eyes and let out a snort. It made Hermione wary enough to try to shift forward a bit, becoming a living shield for her sister if the need would arise.

"A-hah!" spoke Ophelia with a tone that implied 'got you now'. "How can my parents put the presents under my tree when they are still asleep before I wake up in the morning?"

"Because they send you to bed before _they_ go to sleep!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Merlin above, with is it with you mudbloods and a complete lack of any form of critical thinking?"

Hermione gasped in horror and felt anger welling up inside of her. How _dare_ she?! Hermione knew that Bellatrix wasn't a very nice person, but this was just sheer indecency.

"Honestly, have you no shame?" Hermione started angrily. "Ophelia is just a child!"

"But it's what the both of you _are_!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes while her voice was even and resolute.

Ophelia, for her part, cocked her head sideways and gave Bellatrix a scrutinous glare. She shifted forward a little, putting down her teacup first. "My blood is not mud. It's red. I saw so myself when I hurt my knees playing yesterday," she replied with a smug expression on her face.

While locking eyes with the obstinate child, Bellatrix crossed her arms. "It's a figure of spe…"

"Non-sequitor," interrupted Ophelia while imperiously raising her chin. "Your facts are uncoordinated."

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when she saw Bellatrix's indignant sputtering. Oh, though she doubted Ophelia fully understood what it meant, she was certain that she must have gotten it from dad. It was from an old Star Trek episode their father loved to quote, after all.

She could swear she could hear the dark witch growl as she hissed through gritted teeth; "I'm starting to see a certain family resemblance."

Shooting Bellatrix wary glares, Hermione turned to her little sister. "Ophelia, how did you even get in here? Did Bellatrix invite you?"

"Certainly not!" Bellatrix protested.

Her little sister smiled as she looked up at her with big brown eyes. "I wanted to know what was behind this door. But the men at the door sent me away. So I went outside and climbed the wall so I could find out."

"The wall?!" Hermione blinked.

"More precisely, the tiny mudblood climbed the wooden creeper frame right underneath the balcony of my bedroom," said Bellatrix.

Hermione blinked. "That's three stories high! That's dangerous, Ophelia!"

"Nah, I can climb really good!"

"Obviously," Bellatrix concluded.

Hermione was about to give her little sister a stern lecture when the door to the sitting room opened. Two burly guards entered and stood at attention the moment they saw Bellatrix. Hermione didn't recognize them, and figured they were new recruits from the mainland Alexei mentioned were coming. "Lady Black," said the highest ranked. "You summoned us?"

"Yes," Bellatrix hissed. "Care to explain how a five-year old got past you?"

"Four!" Ophelia cheerfully corrected.

Hermione watched passively as she actually saw the burly man break out in a sweat. "Uhm, my apologies, Lady Black. It will not happen again."

"See that it doesn't!" spat the dark witch. "Return the child to her parents."

Sensing that playtime was over, Ophelia walked over to the younger guard and allowed her to take her hand. "Bye Hermione, bye Bella!" her little sister waved cheerfully with her free hand as she was led out into the hallway. This left Hermione sitting next to the small table while Bellatrix got to her feet and sauntered towards the window, sighing as she solemnly watched the gardens below.

"Well," smirked Bellatrix. "I used to have a bit of a problem with young ladies sneaking into my bedroom unwanted, but they were usually a lot older than four."

"I'll see to it that she doesn't bother you again," Hermione said. "If that's everything, I..."

"Wait," said Bellatrix, ignored Hermione's questioning look and preferred silence a few moments longer. "The bond between sisters. It's beautiful, magical even. Even though you've only known Ophelia for less than two weeks, the bond you have with her was instant and strong. Don't think I didn't see what you did the moment you found me with your little sister. If at any hypothetical point, I would have drawn my wand to cast a killing curse at Ophelia, you would have jumped in front of it without so much as a second thought. There was a time when I would have done the same for either of my sisters."

Hermione listening intently. There was something different about Bellatrix now. There were no smirks, no cackles, no insults, no games... In fact, the dark witch appeared quieter to her. Thoughtful. Demure, even.

"I've seen you play with her. A bond between sisters can be more fragile than you might want. Hold onto it. Before you know it, it is broken and gone forever," Bellatrix said, her back still turned to her.

"What's wrong? Has something happened?" The question was out before Hermione could stop herself. Suffice it to say, Hermione was not someone who would dig into someone's private life. And certainly not when the person whose private life it was about could fly off the handle without any sort of warning.

Bellatrix, however, didn't seem to be offended. She turned around and appeared... conflicted, as if trying to decide whether to tell her something or not. The dark witch let out a sigh and ran a hand through her curly dark hair. "You still have your little sister. Cherish her. Me? I've failed both of mine."

Hermione gave her a questioning look.

"When I started the Walpurgis Union," said Bellatrix before starting to pace around uncomfortably. "I wanted Cissy to join me. I sent her so many letters, but never received a reply. Draco is the only one who replies to my letters, bless his heart. He's a good lad, but... he's got a life of his own and is keeping away from the war. I respect his choice. Andromeda... only ever sent me one single reply. ' _I never want to hear from you ever again_.' Not exactly subtle."

Hermione said nothing. What was there to say?

"That suddenly, out of the blue, I received a letter from Cissy. It was a heartfelt plea, in fact," said Bellatrix. "Remember the fortune we claimed as the spoils of war from the Swiss branch of Gringotts? Turns out a rather large chuck of the Malfoy fortune was in that bank. I made arrangements with some of Luna's agents and they returned the money to the last knut in the deepest of secret, of course. That was a week a go and I never heard anything else from Cissy since."

It wasn't hard to miss the embitterment in Bellatrix's voice. "Maybe... she just hasn't gotten around to it?" Hermione suggested.

Immediately, the dark witch whirled around and glared at the young witch. However, Hermione couldn't help but notice that Bellatrix's dark eyes were slightly watery.

"Don't patronize me!" Bellatrix snapped and Hermione held up a hand in apology. "Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting. A thank you? Some form of acknowledgment at least? My sisters won't talk to me. And after everything I put them through, I honestly can't blame them. "

Bellatrix looked away from her and placed both her hands on the windowsill; it was easy to hear the wavering in her voice and see the slight tremble in her shoulders.

' _She's lonely.'_

It was a startling revelation to Hermione, but it did make sense. Bellatrix had followers, but no true friends. Her people loved her, adored her even, but she herself had no one to be close to. Any family she had left didn't want to be associated with her. She had no lover, no one to confide in.

_'God, Bellatrix must be the loneliest person in this entire palace.'_

"I brought Cissy's family to the brink of ruin," said Bellatrix in an angry tone. "I murdered my own niece. And, with it, any hopes of reconciliation with Andie. And for what? All for _him."_

Bellatrix paced in front of the window for a moment, looking broody and dour. "You know, I almost wish I could be as insane as I was before."

"Are you saying you are not insane now?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Bellatrix snorted in spite of herself. "Oh, I am quite aware I am less than stable. But I am also aware that I'm not as bad as I used to be. An army of two hundred thousand strong looks to me for leadership. Millions of civilians require my protection. I can no longer afford the luxury of insanity!"

Hermione nodded. At least the dark witch took her duties seriously.

"Insanity can be a shield," said Bellatrix, her voice cracking. "Insanity is a cozy blanket, it's bliss. It... gives focus. I loved him, you know? I loved him more than anything in the world. He _was_ my world. I did _everything_ for him. Fourteen years of horrors in Azkaban waiting for him to return. I killed for him, I tortured for him, I destroyed my own family. All for _him_. I loved him so much that it blinded me to everything. Too blind to see that he would never love me, never hold me, never comfort me, never let me close to him. Too blind to see that he exploited my love for him. All he has ever given me is misery and pain! There are times when I wish I could still be insane so that I wouldn't have to face this truth... this truth that I have nobody to blame but myself!"

Bellatrix raised her arms to the sun in the sky. "Look at me now, _my lord!_ " Bellatrix hissed in a mocking tone. "Look at what I have achieved! I have achieved things you have only dreamed of! I have built the largest empire the wizarding world has ever seen in only five years time!"

' _But no one to share it with'_ , thought Hermione, and immediately felt a pang of sadness for this deranged yet oh-so lonely woman standing in front of her. ' _Sympathy for the devil, Hermione?'_

"Bellatrix?" Hermione spoke softly. "I'm sorry."

The dark witch turned around. Her watery eyes had produced streaks of tears slowly running down her cheeks, dragging along the dark of her eyeshadow with it.

"I'm so sorry for all the horrible things Voldemort has done to you," the young witch replied. Though she was certainly not about to excuse or forgive the crimes Bellatrix had committed in the past, she could clearly see that Bellatrix too had been a victim of Voldemort's mad ambitions.

Bellatrix, for her part, was utterly gobsmacked by Hermione's words, evidenced by the fact that her mouth moved without producing any sort of words. However, the young witch took a step back when Bellatrix's expression started to twist in a grimace of unadulterated rage. "You... dare... to PITY ME?! FILTHY LITTLE MUDBLOOD PIECE OF RUBBISH! You are nothing! You are offal! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!"

At this point, Hermione decided it was perhaps for the best to make herself scarce. This turned out to be a good decision, because the moment she had closed the door behind her, she could hear the sounds of the teapot shattering against the wall followed by other breakables meeting their demise. The familiar sounds of magic cleaving through the air and furniture being blasted out of their place came soon after. Before Hermione could leave, however, the sounds stopped and were replaced by... sobbing? Hermione carefully laid her ear to the door and, sure enough, there was the distinct sound of Bellatrix crying to herself coming from behind the door.

Almost, Hermione went back inside. Almost.

What had happened was definitely a defensive reaction, but one thing was certain. Bellatrix had never seemed more... _human_ to Hermione.

* * *

**22nd of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's quarters**

After her encounter with Bellatrix, Hermione returned to her quarters to work on the lesson plan for the next two classes she'd be teaching, but found that she simply couldn't concentrate. The dark witch was prevalent on her mind, even though she tried to focus on her tasks. Eventually, she just gave up, tossed her work on the desk and strolled over to the window. She leaned on the windowsill and watched the people in the yard below. Most people there were enjoying their break from work around this time and she spotted more than a few people she was friendly with.

Bellatrix... she had never seen the woman as a victim before. Granted, she wasn't typical victim material and certainly didn't act like one, but that didn't make this revelation any less disturbing or eye-opening.

On the one hand, it didn't excuse any of the awful things she had done, but on the other hand it did paint them in a different light. However, Hermione wasn't exactly ready to forgive. Mostly, she was worried about the fallout her earlier encounter with Bellatrix could have; up till now she had been mostly cordial towards Hermione. Honestly, however, she couldn't stop thinking about the dark witch; she was beautiful and terrible, her long curly dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she smirked at her with her dark red lips and intensity in her eyes.

A knock on her door, mercifully, cut off that train of thought. "Enter," Hermione called out.

The young witch was surprised to be confronted with her little sister... floating in the air. Behind her was a very amused looking Alexei with his wand out, having conjured an invisible hand to pick up Ophelia by the straps of her dungarees and levitating her off the ground.

"Ophelia?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"After Lady Black ordered her to be taken back to her parents," Alexei chuckled. "The little miss here suddenly made a break for it and led my two guards on a merry chase through the palace."

For her part, Ophelia seemed very pleased with herself.

"Oh dear," Hermione let out a brief laugh when she plucked her little sister out of the air and pressed her to her chest. Ophelia was only too happy to hug her back and settled her head just underneath Hermione's chin.

"Ah, don't worry about it," said Alexei after giving Ophelia a wink. "They needed the exercise anyway."

After Alexei said his goodbyes, Hermione put her little sister on the bed when she sat on the edge with her legs dangling over the side. "Right," said Hermione as she smiled and crossed her arms. "You really are a little troublemaker, aren't you?"

"I'm a troublemaker!" Ophelia happily confirmed.

"Honestly, though," said Hermione while sinking to one knee so she could look the girl in the eye. "You shouldn't climb up wooden frames. It might not have been fastened properly, it might not have held your weight or you could have slipped."

"I was fine," Ophelia retorted and, for the first time, noticed the Bellatrix ragdoll sitting next to Hermione's pillow. Ophelia reached over to snatch it and clutched it to her chest. Hermione smiled as she watched her sister play with the doll for a bit. She let out a sigh and put a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Ophelia," Hermione started. "You need to stay away from Lady Black. She's a very dangerous woman and I don't want you to get hurt."

Ophelia looked up from playing with the doll. "Bella?" she said, giving Hermione a questioning look. "But... she's really nice. And she likes you too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I seriously doubt that," said the young witch. She paused a moment, wondering if she should really do what she was about to. But protecting the girl herself was more important than protecting her innocence. Slowly, Hermione rolled up her sleeve and showed her young sister her ugly scar. " _She_ did this to me. Five years ago. Carved it into my skin with a cursed dagger."

The word 'Mudblood' was crudely carved in her flesh. With a pang of regret, she saw her little sister look it over. Ophelia was insightful for her young age, and quickly realized that what Bellatrix had done to her had hurt her deeply. The little girl looked up at her with big eyes. "Maybe... maybe she didn't mean it?"

"Oh, she meant it, alright," Hermione shook her head. Ophelia was obviously conflicted about the whole thing. Hermione quickly pulled down her sleeve and decided to change the subject. "Anyway, isn't it about time for your nap? Come on, let's go find mum and dad."

"Noooo," Ophelia pouted. "Can I nap here with you?"

For a brief moment, the amount of work Hermione still had to do shot through her mind. However, her desire to spend time with her new-found little sister won out almost immediately. "Sure," Hermione smiled and helped the little girl take off her shoes. Perfectly fine to sleep in her clothes, Ophelia lay on her side and let Hermione tuck her in. The young witch walked around the bed and slipped onto the covers on the other side.

"But I'm not tired..." Ophelia yawned as she clutched the Bellatrix ragdoll to her chest. Moments later, she was sound asleep.

Hermione smiled warmly and reached over to run her hands through Ophelia's brown hair. "I won't let anyone harm you, Ophelia," said Hermione. "I promise you that."

Honestly, today had been plenty exhausting already. Just resting her eyes sounded quite good right about now. She lay her head on the second pillow. Just a little rest would do wonders for her.

* * *

**22nd of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, guest quarters**

After waking up from what was only supposed to be a short nap, Hermione was startled to find out that the both of them had slept the entire afternoon away. It was almost time for dinner, in fact, when the two sisters had turned up at the rather spacious room her parents had been given to stay for the moment. Hermione sat on a sofa watching her father pouring over some guides with her sister sitting on his lap looking very excited. Their mother, apparently, was at the quartermasters fetching their order of Chinese which had been requisitioned from the mainland; today's dinner.

"Hm, Finland seems like a good option," said her father while letting Ophelia take a look at some of the pictures.

"Pretty lakes," Ophelia nodded in approval.

Hermione let out a brief sigh. "Dad, I'm so sorry that I'm the cause of our family having to look for a new place to live... again."

"Oh, don't be silly, Hermione," said Jack. "It doesn't matter where we are. As long as I have my girls, all three of them, I'll be fine."

Her father put both hands on Ophelia's ears. The annoyed expression on Ophelia's face made Hermione chuckle for a bit; it was like she had been caught in a place she shouldn't be. "Right," said her father. "I still don't like it one bit that you're a prisoner of war."

"All things considered," said Hermione. "I'm a lot better off than most Phoenix Alliance prisoners."

"I suppose, but... how long is this going to be? I can't stand the fact that your freedom has been taken away," said Jack. "I'm sure if you'd just let me talk to this Lady Bellatrix, we could come to some sort of agreement, puppet."

"Dad? Don't," Hermione hissed. "Really, just... don't."

"Why not?" Jack replied in frustation. "When I met her, she didn't strike me as someone unreasonable. She was a little uppity, though..."

"Dad. NO!" Hermione pressed. "It's my problem, not yours. I'm content to stay here for the time being."

Jack Granger looked at her intently. "Fine, alright. Miss Lovegood confirmed that we will be free to go wherever we please, but that we'll only be allowed to visit you if we settle in countries that fall under this Walpurgis Union thingy. That rules out the UK..."

"Sorry, dad," Hermione closed her eyes and lowered her head in a sense of shame. Apparently sensing Hermione's mood, Ophelia hopped off her father's lap, ran over and hopped right on Hermione's lap. The young witch was only too grateful for it, especially when the girl looked up to smile at her. Hermione wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and kissed the top of her head.

"So, Finland," said her father. "Seems to be a most likely place to settle. Our dentist licenses are valid there, there's a lot of space and clean air. A good place to raise a child, I'd wager."

"Was that the only option you considered?" asked Hermione.

"We considered Greece for a bit, but it's not exactly my climate," said her father.

Hermione nodded. "We've got quite a few Finns working here at the palace. You should talk to some of them. Small warning, though, I've heard that the Finnish language is notoriously difficult to learn."

"Oh," her dad waved dismissively. "I already know 'kiitos' and 'hampaat'. I like a challenge and, honestly, how hard could it be?"

The young witch could only smile at her father's enthusiasm. Honestly, she was quite happy that her parents were taking this all in stride. It would have been far worse if they'd been angry with her. She sat with her father and sister and chatted for a while when there was a knock on the door. Luna stepped through and gave the both of them a nod. "Hello, mister Granger. Would you mind terribly if I were to borrow Hermione for a bit?"

Hermione let go of her little sister, letting her run for a bit. "Miss Luna?" Ophelia asked. "Are we still going to hunt nargles tomorrow?"

Luna smiled and sank to one knee. "Definitely, little miss. I know plenty of places around the palace where they might be nesting."

Not exactly happy that Luna was filling Ophelia's head with nonsense, Hermione followed her into another room where they could talk in private. That was a good, as Hermione had some things to ask her.

"You seem to have upset Bellatrix," Luna spoke matter-of-factly while she leaned next to the window. It was a clear day outside, so the room was bathed in a welcoming orange glow of evening light. "Augustus had a vase thrown at his head. It missed, though."

Hermione shook her head. "That was not what I had intended. Luna... there's something I must know. I know that Bellatrix wants me to join her, but now that my parents are here... I'm becoming worried that she might decide to use them as leverage. Especially after her outburst earlier today."

To her credit, Luna seemed rather thoughtful for a moment. "I am certain that she will not," said Luna.

"How can you even know that?!" Hermione replied harshly. "God, Luna, you were there in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor and longer than we were! You know better than anyone how dangerous Bellatrix Black can be! How can you know for certain that my parents are safe? That my little sister is safe?"

Luna shot her a brief smile that was oddly encouraging. "Hermione," said Luna. "If I thought your parents were in any danger, I would have never have them brought here. I would have gone on the mission like Bellatrix had asked me, but I would have relocated them and reported the mission as a failure."

There was something about Luna's tone and expression which made Hermione believe her. "Why?" Hermione asked. "Why did you join her?"

"I told you," said Luna. "I am where I should be."

"Oh, please, no more nonsense, Luna!" said Hermione as she crossed the distance and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Just tell me why! You were at the Battle of Hogwarts. She tried to _kill_ you!"

Luna fixed Hermione with a stare. It wasn't malicious, nor was it friendly. It was just an deep and resolute stare. "Bellatrix is no longer the same as she used to be."

There was something in the way Luna said it which made it sound very ominous. On face value, that statement was true. Though the deranged and vile woman was still very much the wicked witch she remembered, the Bellatrix she had known before would never have had such an open-hearted conversation with her like she had today. There was an undertone to Luna's words, though, and it did not sit well with her; her friend knew more than she was letting on.

"Trust me," said Luna. "Bellatrix wants you to join her out of your own free will. It wouldn't be... sporting... to coerce you by threatening your parents. She has much to gain. One of the closest allies of Boy Who Lived defecting would be a mighty weapon of propaganda, you're a talented diplomat and, well, she likes the idea of stealing you out from under Professor Snape's nose."

"Trust you?" Hermione sighed and looked her friend in the eye. "It's becoming hard to trust you when you are actively keeping secrets from me! "

Luna seemed to think this over for a moment, looking away from her and turning towards the window. "I told her you could be turned," said Luna. "I told Bellatrix that you would be a great asset. It took a lot of convincing. But I've come through for her before."

Hermione felt numb. There was no sound in the room other than the sound of both women breathing, and the errant tweet of a songbird in the far distance. "You?" Hermione whispered softly. "I'm here because of you? I mean, I know you and your agents captured me in Switzerland, but..."

"Bellatrix authorized your capture," said Luna. "And it was I who convinced her to attend your summit in the first place."

"Why?!" Hermione hissed. So far, Luna was only giving her more questions to ask with every answer she gave. God, Luna had always been infuriating, but this was something else.

"Because I need you to be here."

The matter-of-factness with which Luna had given her answer only made Hermione angrier. She thought back to the story of the Tunguska event and her mother's accident and the events leading up to it so vividly described in her diary. "Luna," Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. It took plenty of willpower to control her anger. After this latest confession, Hermione felt the urge to slam Luna against the wall and yell at her.

But she was not Bellatrix; she was rational and in control of her emotions. Or at least that's what she told herself. "I understand. I understand that your mother has died under mysterious circumstances and that you are looking for answers! I would too if I were in your place. But... all this? Defection? Becoming a servant of Bellatrix? Having me brought here? Is it worth the cost?"

Luna once again offered that slight flighty smile of hers. "Oh, I already have my answers."

It was then that Hermione felt a headache develop. "Luna!"

Luna held up her hands. "You require more evidence. I understand."

"Luna, stop with the games, please! Why don't you just tell me? Why are only giving me snippets of information in piecemeal?! You know a lot more than you are letting on!"

Luna shook her head slightly. "Because you would think me mad if I told you outright."

More questions! Only more questions! And Hermione had had enough!

"TRY ME!" Hermione shouted at her. "YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN A LOON, SO WHAT'S DIFFERENT THIS TIME?! WHAT MAKES THIS PARTICULAR NONSENSICAL STORY OF YOURS DIFFERENT FROM YOUR USUAL BOLLOCKS ABOUT FUCKING NARGLES OR ROTFANG CONSPIRACIES?!"

Her chest heaving, her teeth gritted, the red flashing in front of her eyes faded, and Hermione was startled to see that she had, in fact, grabbed Luna by the shoulders and had slammed her back into the wall. As if she was touching something burning, Hermione released Luna and took a few steps back. "God, Luna... I... I'm so sorry."

Luna, for her part, didn't seem to be very upset about it. "Sometimes it takes a logical and rational mind to make sense of the world. And sometimes it takes someone like me to see and read the signs which others can't or don't want to and to make connections saner folks are unable to. The signs that point to...things..." Luna muttered while stepping towards the door. She turned to Hermione. "We'll talk later, Hermione."

"Wait!" Hermione called after her. "What 'things'?"

As she reached the door, Luna stopped dead in her tracks. At first, she said nothing and raised her hand to open the door. However, she didn't step into the hallway. Instead, she slowly turned around and gave Hermione a look which was deadly serious. For a moment, Luna seemed to be conflicted. It was a few moments before she actually spoke. "Things which lie hidden in the dark corners of the Earth."

There was something in the way Luna had said it that caused cold shivers to run down Hermione's spine. She was left alone in the room, with yet more to ponder.


	10. Love Struck

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the hot water pouring down on her. Though her luxurious bathroom did, in fact, have a bath, she much preferred showers. It was much quicker to just hop into the shower than to run a bath, after all. Baths were reserved for lazy days and she didn't really have many of those anymore.

While the water poured down, Hermione realized that she actually hadn't seen Bellatrix for a while. In fact, nobody had; the dark witch had withdrawn herself to her private wing and hadn't left it for a week. The word around the palace was that she had canceled all small council meetings, all visits from dignitaries and even the usual guard patrols had been shunned.

It worried Hermione somewhat; this apparently wasn't usual for Bellatrix. It made her wonder what mood she'd be in once she'd finally emerge from her private quarters. Though if she were to hazard a guess, it would probably not be a happy one.

No time to dwell on Bellatrix, however. Today she'd have more courses for her trainees to teach and had a playdate with her little sister afterwards. She stepped out of the shower, dried herself and wrapped a towel around her hair.

As she went to fetch her clothes and prepared to head out to the cafeteria for breakfast, she almost overlooked the tiny little thing in the room which was different from before she'd stepped into the shower. As such, Hermione was surprised to find a small box sitting on the pillow of her bed. It was a red-colored flat and square-shaped box with a yellow ribbon tied around it.

Her curiosity piqued, Hermione walked over to the box and examined it. There was no card and when she opened the box, she found a tray of chocolates inside. Expensive ones; magically twisted taste experiences of white, milk and dark chocolate with creamy filling. Apparently, someone had left these for her while she was in the shower.

The rather creepy idea of someone being in her room while she'd been showering was quickly negated by the idea that someone had shown a romantic interest in her. That was something which just didn't happen to her. A lot of people were afraid to approach her because she was one of the people who had taken down Voldemort. Others thought that she was in love with her work so much that there was no room for someone else.

Regardless, Hermione walked out into the corridor with a big smile on her face. It was a good feeling to be noticed for once.

By the time she arrived at the cafeteria, Hermione thought she had figured out whom had left it for her. Yes, it had to be Alexei. The handsome young man enjoyed spending time with her and they often had lunch together. Their conversations hadn't exactly been romantic in nature, but that didn't mean anything. In fact, she saw him sitting at the table near the window right now.

"Ah, good morning, Hermione," Alexei greeted cheerfully.

"Ah, uhm, good morning," Hermione felt a flush creep to her cheeks as she sat down opposite to him.

"Is something wrong?" asked Alexei. "You seem a bit flustered."

"Oh, no, no," Hermione smiled. "Uh, did you, uhm, perhaps, uhm, well, leave something in my room just now?"

The young witch could kick herself right now. ' _Smooth, Hermione. You're the paragon of seduction'_.

Alexei, for his part, frowned. "No," he said. "I would never enter your room without your permission. Is... has someone been trespassing? Should I investigate?"

"No, no, no," Hermione said quickly. "Just... forget it, okay?"

The rest of the breakfast conversation was decidedly awkward.

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Luna's office**

Luna's office was more akin to being a broom closet in size when compared to the rest of the grandeur of the palace, but she insisted that she liked it that way. There were filing cabinets piling out with papers while Luna sat behind a cluttered desk which barely seemed to fit the room. From the ceiling hung several corks from bits of wire, apparently serving as Nargle-repellants. It appeared some things never changed.

Hermione watched as Luna roved her wand over the box and studied it intently. "Well," said Luna after her spell was done. "They're chocolates."

"You don't say," Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"No secret payload of any kind, just chocolates," said Luna.

"Regular chocolates?" Hermione asked.

Luna shook her head. "I wouldn't call 25 galleon a piece worth of confectionery regular by any means. Someone spent a lot of money on your gift. You have really have no idea who left it for you?"

"I thought I had," said Hermione.

"Alexei?" Luna smiled briefly.

"Yeah, but he wasn't it," said Hermione. "I talk to a lot of people at the palace, but... I honestly have no idea who it could have been."

"It appears you have a secret admirer," Luna replied.

"Oh, god, why?!" Hermione sighed heavily. "Now I'm going to spend every waking moment trying to figure out who could have left it for me. I won't get any work done!"

"Well, if you feel so strongly about it, I could always throw out some feelers," said Luna. "Maybe put an agent or two on the task."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, the resources of the Walpurgis Union are better spent elsewhere. It's my own problem, and I'll deal with it."

Luna nodded. "Suit yourself. The offer stands."

Hermione remained silent for a bit. "This is nice," she said. "I mean, us two, talking. Like friends. No mysteries, no war. Like it used to be."

Luna smiled warmly. "Honestly, I always got the impression you didn't like me. But then I realized it was just the Nargles burrowing in your brain making you think that."

Hermione gave her friend an incredulous look.

"That was a joke," said Luna.

"Ah," frowned Hermione. "I won't lie, I've always disagreed with your worldview, but you were my friend and I trusted you."

Luna seemed thoughtful and, for a moment, went really quiet. "Did my defection hurt you?" she asked carefully.

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded slightly. "Yes," she replied. "Yes, it did."

"I'm sorry," Luna replied with utmost sincerity. "That was never my intention. But I am where..."

"... you need to be," Hermione finished for her. "Whatever that means."

"Are you sure you don't want me to find out who your secret admirer is?" Luna asked while Hermione rose from her seat and got ready to leave. She took the box of chocolates from Luna's desk.

"Nah," said Hermione. "I'm sure he will make himself known at some point."

After saying her goodbyes, Hermione found herself in the hallway with the box of chocolates in hand. Once again, Hermione had more questions than answers after a conversation with Luna and it occurred to her that she hadn't even tasted on the chocolates yet. Well, Luna had told them that they were safe and she had never had such expensive chocolates before. So why not?

She opened the box and picked a particularly delicious looking bonbon made from milk chocolate with white streaks and a particularly enticing hazelnut propped up on top. The moment the chocolate touched her tongue, a shudder went through her body. These were obviously prepared with magic as her tongue tingled after a taste-explosion went off in her mouth. Hermione had to prop herself up against the wall as she felt herself going weak in the knees.

' _Right'_ , Hermione panted while recovering from the effects of this chocolate manna from heaven. ' _Let's eat these in the privacy of my own bedroom.'_

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

After consuming two more chocolates, of which the cumulative effect almost had her writhing on the bed from a chocolate orgasm, Hermione was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. Hermione was about to tell any person as the door to bugger off as she much preferred to spend some time being a complete chocolate junkie, when she heard the voice of her little sister from beyond the door.

"Hermione! Hermione!" she yelled. "Are you in?!"

She opened the door and was happy to see little Ophelia... and at the same time startled when she saw a bored-looking Bellatrix yawning in the hallway. Again, Hermione felt the urge to be a living shield for her little sister if need be. The dark witch seemed to notice this and looked upon her with slight disappointment. "Really?" Bellatrix emphasized her disdain with an angry snort. "Again, I'm not going to eat her."

"What are you doing here?" asked Hermione. "And before you say 'it's my palace', be aware that there's loads of people who've been waiting for you to leave your private quarters."

"First of all, I don't see how that's any business of yours," said a haughty Bellatrix. "Second of all, they'll have to wait for me to be available. Today, I'll be taking this tiny mudblood out into the forest."

"A dragon, Hermione!" Ophelia raved. "I'm going to see a dragon!"

Hermione blinked before narrowing her eyes. "Not going to happen! Out of the question!"

"Awww," Ophelia pouted, giving her the saddest eyes since the death of Bambi's mum. "But Bella said I could!"

Bellatrix snorted again, this time also rolling her eyes. "About a week ago, I promised the tiny mudblood here that I would show her a dragon. I always keep my promises, as you well know. She is going."

Hermione wasn't about to roll over and let this happen. She picked up her little sister, who was more than a little upset and squirmed in protest. "Do mum and dad even know about this?"

"Daaaaawww," Bellatrix mock-pouted while a dangerous light shone in her eyes. "It's so cute that you actually think that you and your parents can stop me from taking the girl to see the dragon. Don't worry. It's perfectly safe. The rusalki won't give her as much as a second glance since, well, she's not the Granger sister who's attracted to women."

That comment made her huff. "I am _not_ attracted to women!" he hissed. A moment later, she pursed her lips. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Uh-huh," Bellatrix winked. "Well, tag along then. I certainly understand the need to protect one's little sister. And don't worry about that trainee-class of yours. I've already ordered it canceled for today. No need to thank me."

' _Thank you?!'_ Hermione bristled. As her calendar was now cleared and because she definitely did not trust Bellatrix alone with Ophelia, there were no reasons not to go. The dark witch apparated the three of them to the middle of forest on Buyan island. It was a sunny day, and rays of light broke through the thick canopy above them. Hermione became immediately aware that she was being watched from the underbrush. The eyes of the rusalki were once again upon her, and she immediately stepped closer to Bellatrix. For her part, the dark witch shot her a smirk and a wink.

' _I am_ NOT _attracted to women!'_ Hermione once again told herself while the three of them made their way to the clearing where the dragon roosted. Bellatrix stopped at the edge of the forest and peered into the distance.

"He's coming over," whispered Bellatrix as she turned to Ophelia. "Now remember, hm? No sudden movements when he lands. No loud noises. You need to stand still and keep quiet. Can you do that?"

The nervous girl nodded slowly, often looking at the sky to see if she could spot the dragon. Hermione wasn't happy about this at all, however. She'd seen how big this dragon was and Ophelia was just the right size to be a quick snack between meals.

Her little sister gasped and Hermione froze when the flapping of leathery wings sounded nearby. A few moments later, the dragon landed on a large rock near the roost. Hermione died a thousand deaths when Ophelia let out a giggle which was just loud enough to make her cringe. Thankfully, the dragon itself was unimpressed as its maw was folded around the corpse of what looked to be an unfortunate holstein. The carcass was torn and bloody as teeth the size of daggers had ripped into it. The dragon craned its neck and dropped the carcass on the ground, before folding his wings and digging its snout into warm bloody flesh, tearing the meat.

"So coooooollllll," Ophelia gasped.

"Don't move," Hermione whispered softly when she saw her sister was about to rush forward.

Bellatrix, for her part, simply maintained a respectful distance from the dragon.

"Bellatrix," Hermione hissed. "We shouldn't be near a dragon when it's eating. It might turn hostile if we get too close."

The dark witch offered her a disdainful glance, eyes shining with arrogance. It spoke of someone who was self-assured enough to know what she was doing. The dragon, for its part, seemed to acknowledge them for the first time. It regarded the trio for a moment with its intelligent eyes before it craned its neck down to the side of the carcass, slightly pushing his snout against it to shift it towards them. The earth shook at he took a step back and looked at them expectantly.

"What's it doing?" whispered Hermione.

"He's offering us food," replied Bellatrix.

Hermione shot a nauseated look at the bloodied, shredded and saliva-covered carcass. The flies had discovered it and internal organs had become decidedly external. "You can't be serious."

"Be honored," hissed Bellatrix. "You WILL accept."

The young witch watched when Bellatrix produced a dagger from her belt and slowly walked to the carcass. She knelt by it, placed her hand on the carcass and used the dagger to slice off three thankfully clean pieces of flesh. Using her now bloodied hands to levitate the three pieces, the dark witch willed a jet of magical flame to spew forth from her wand. In record time, the beef had been cooked and was, according to Bellatrix at least, ready to eat. Both Hermione and her sister were handed a slice.

"Uhm," Hermione bit her lip.

"Thank you, mister dragon!" Ophelia waved cheerfully while Bellatrix ate her slice. Feeling like there was no avoiding it, Hermione took a few bites from the meat she had been given, fighting the urge to vomit.

The dragon, satisfied that his guests were well-fed, once again buried its snout into the carcass to eat the remainder of his catch.

The next half hour was spent watching the dragon flying around the coast and making sure Ophelia never got too close to the edge of the cliff. Hermione eventually settled for holding her little sister by the shoulders while she squirmed to break free and get a better look from the cliffside.

"Bellatrix?" asked the little girl. "What's his name?"

Bellatrix didn't lower her gaze to answer Ophelia. Instead, she kept looking up, eyes following the flying dragon as it made another pass overhead. "He doesn't have a name," whispered Bellatrix while offering the beast a look of admiration and envy. "He's as free as the wind."

Meanwhile, now that Ophelia was safe and occupied with watching the dragon, Hermione's mind started working on solving the mystery of the chocolates once again. If not Alexei than who had left them for her? Oh, this was so awkward. By now, she knew most of the people who worked and lived at the palace and had a fair idea whom the interested parties might be. Some single younger men she had had conversations with recently, perhaps? In her mind, she listed off the most likely candidates. Lasse? He had invited her to dinner. Roger, maybe? He'd been stealing glances at her during her classes when he thought she wasn't looking. Or maybe Leonid, whom had once given her a fragrant flower at the start of class. Ah, this was maddening. It could be anybody!

Bellatrix nodded and seemed satisfied. "Well, I think I have kept my promise, little witchling. Shall we return to the palace?"

"Wait!" Ophelia suddenly spoke up.

"Hm?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"Bella," asked Ophelia as she stood in front of her. "We'll have a new house soon, but mum and dad say that Hermione can't come home with us."

"Ophelia," Hermione started to say.

Bellatrix, for her part, nodded briefly in acknowledgment. "That is correct. Your sister is a big girl. And she has to stay at the palace because she is a big girl."

For once, Hermione was grateful that Bellatrix hadn't chosen a spiteful answer to hurt Ophelia's feelings. She was certain that if Bellatrix had blurted out that she was a prisoner, Ophelia would have gotten very upset. "Come on, Ophelia," said Hermione, not wanting to tempt fate. "Time to head back."

But her little sister would have none of it. With chin raised and a stern look on her face, she continued to admonish Bellatrix. "You like Hermione. Why did you hurt her? Why did you write on her arm?"

By now, Hermione had reached Ophelia and quickly picked her up. She had no way of knowing how being confronted by the actions of her past would make the dark witch react. Hermione was ready to protect her if need be. But the expected fit of rage never came.

Bellatrix looked somewhat contemplative when she pursed her lips and shook her head. She placed her hands on her hips, smearing a large portion of the bovine blood on her hands onto her finery. There was no sarcastic come-back this time, nor even an angry one. For once, the dark witch seemed unsure of what to say. She looked down at her bloody hand and, with a neutral expression, folded it into a fist before looking away.

This surprised Hermione, but at the same time she was used to Bellatrix's devious trickery. For now, she was just content with the fact that the dark witch hadn't exploded into a fit of rage. Ophelia settled in her embrace, but quickly turned her head to face Bellatrix once more. "You're sorry you did it. Why don't you just tell Hermione so that the both of you can be friends?"

"Ophelia, hush!" Hermione said with a tone she considered slightly too harsh. A fearful glance at the dark witch revealed not the expected rage but a frozen expression of silence. The dark witch said nothing, but simply waved her hands to apparate the lot of them back to the palace.

No that the fun had ended, they ended up standing in Hermione's guest room. Ophelia thanked the dark witch profusely before running off to find mum and dad, no doubt to share all about the adventure she had had. In the meantime, Bellatrix walked into Hermione's bathroom to wash the blood off her hands. And, of course, she didn't ask first. Why should she?

There was an awkward silence at first, the only sound in the room being that of the running faucet. Both were happy for a change of subject, it seemed. So, Hermione decided to combat her frustrations by eating another one of these magnificent chocolates. The young witch almost swooned when the wonderful confectionery set her tastebuds aflame.

"You were rather witless today," called Bellatrix from the bathroom while still scrubbing her hands. "A poor woman might think you'd find her company a bore."

"My mind... was occupied," Hermione replied.

"Oh?" said Bellatrix. "Do tell."

Hermione crossed her arms as she spun around. "Keeping my little sister safe from a dragon and from potentially falling off a cliff isn't reason enough to be occupied?"

"Please," Bellatrix snorted. "It's more than that."

"Not that it is any business of yours," said Hermione, crossing her arms while adopting a rather huffy tone of voice. "But this morning I found a box of chocolates on my pillow. I've been trying to figure out who could have left them there."

The faucet was turned off and Bellatrix promptly stepped into the room. "Oh?" said Bellatrix with a rather self-satisfied expression on her face. "Did you like them?"

That was an odd question. Or rather, the way she asked the question was a bit off. If Hermione didn't know any better, she'd say that Bellatrix was a bit excited.

The dark witch approached her, stopping in front of her and standing rather... close. "You liked them, didn't you?" she chuckled.

"Bu... what... How..." Hermione's eyes grew wide as she realized just what Bellatrix was saying. Her body grew numb, her head started to feel light. _'This... this isn't happening!'_

"Y-you?" she stammered, backing off a bit until her back hit the wall.

Hermione froze when Bellatrix grabbed her by the shoulders, her hands still cold from the water. "Yes," Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously. "Me."

There was no smile when Bellatrix slowly, very slowly, leaned towards her. The young witch frantically looked back and forth for a way to escape, but the dark witch had her effectively pinned against the wall. When she turned her head back to face Bellatrix, she was startled to see her face mere inches away from hers. As a last-ditch effort, Hermione flexed backwards until the back of her head slammed against the wall. She could feel Bellatrix's breath on her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer while her breath quickened. There was no avoiding it now.

The dark witch extended the torture by pausing just before the strike. Dark eyes bore down into her very soul like a predator in the night. And then, Bellatrix's lips touched hers.

So incredibly soft.

Truth be told, Hermione didn't have much experience with being kissed. There'd been Viktor, and Ron, of course. But this? This was so different. A continuous soft brush of lips, Bellatrix... was being gentle. Against everything she expected, Bellatrix was being gentle with her.

Still, this was Bellatrix. The witch whom had tried to kill her and her friends. The witch whom had tortured her. The witch who was at the heart of a devastating war, who held her prisoner. She should feel revolted! She should be repulsed!

But she wasn't. To her own horrified surprise, she wasn't.

Her eyelids, spread wide open, slowly started to close as Hermione started to give in to the kiss. Some of Bellatrix's dark curls fell out of formation and caressed her cheek. It caused Hermione to whimper briefly, which in turn prompted a brief throaty chuckle from Bellatrix.

God. How could this possibly feel so good? Was this magic? What kind of spell had Bellatrix cast on her? She never wanted this wonderful moment to end and she was eagerly waiting for the moment when the dark witch would part her lips with her tongue to explore her mouth. Unfortunately, that moment never came.

Hermione almost whimpered in protest when Bellatrix broke the kiss. She opened her eyes and saw Bellatrix looking at her with an neutral expression on her face. Bellatrix looked... unsure of herself.

Immediately, Hermione remembered where she was, realized what had happened. Feelings of bliss turned into feelings of utter confusion. Confusion quickly turned into terror. Now no longer pinned to the wall, Hermione trembled as she brought her hands to her mouth. Then, she did the only thing she thought she could do; she bolted.

While trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible, her foot caught underneath a carpet which caused her to fall to the ground. Wasting no time, she scrambled towards the door on all fours, hand eventually outstretched to the knob. After looking over her shoulder, she could see Bellatrix staring after her. A blank, questioning stare.

Hermione burst into the hallway. She ran and ran and ran. Through the corridors, into the garden and into the forest. She ran until she could run no more, eventually collapsing onto the ground in exhaustion when she came to a nearby beach. She lay there panting, wondering what the hell just happened.

God, she liked it. Why did she like it?!

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – Devon, England – The Burrow**

Ron Weasley apparated into existence into the front yard of the Burrow, his dufflebag strapped over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took in the scents from the fields surrounding his childhood home.

Ah, it was good to be home. When the war with the Wallies started, Ron was one of the first to volunteer. He'd helped to take down Voldemort himself, after all, so how difficult could it be to take down his main lackey? It was supposed to be over quickly.

Well, that didn't work out as planned. Five years long, Ron had seen every horror possible in a war and he'd taken it in stride. Fighting Bellatrix was something which 'had to be done', after all. After all he'd seen and done, it was the kids that were killed in front of his eyes in Denmark which weighed most heavily on his mind. She saw them whenever he closed his eyes. ' _I tried to save them',_ he kept reminding himself.

Thankfully, being a hero of two wars did given him some leeway with the brass. He asked for a discharge, and he was given an indefinite leave of absence 'should he change his mind'. He was sure that he wouldn't. He wanted to be his old self again and doing good things in the homeland might help with that.

The moment he stepped inside the Burrow, he found himself glomped vigorously by his mother. It was a tight hug. It was a vice-like hug. In fact, his ribs were starting to buckle.

"Mum," he groaned. "Air!"

"Oh, let a proud mum hug her brave little soldier," replied Molly Weasley as she literally yanked him into the kitchen. The dufflebag was put on the floor, and Ron was seated behind the table. No less half a minute later, he was surrounded with plates of pancakes dripping in sugar and syrup. Thankfully, Ron was still very good at eating.

"How was Denmark?" asked her mother while she was cooking more pancakes. "The papers say we really kicked out the Wallies something fierce."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Don't believe anything you read in the papers, mum. They made us fight for every inch of soil we took. It wasn't pretty. But, you'll be happy to hear I'll be home for a while. They need aurors on home-soil and I applied."

"Ron?" asked Molly, suddenly a bit worried. Ron guessed maternal instinct at work. "What happened in Denmark?"

"I don't want to talk about it, mum," Ron said while stuffing another pancake down his gob.

He heard the clang of a spoon being thrown angrily down into the sink. "This war is destroying so many of our young men and women!" Molly huffed. "When is it going to stop?! You-Know-Who is gone! People need to start realizing that!"

Ron wasn't about to disagree. His mother had fought in both wizarding wars because she thought it was necessary and just. To hear her condemn this one spoke volumes.

"Sorry, dear," said Molly. "I'm not angry at you. In fact, I'm really happy to have you here. It's been so quiet in the house."

Ron could only agree. It did feel much quieter here without George setting off some sort of exploding charm into the yard or Percy complaining about this and that. All of his siblings had moved out by now, and Ginny told him in her letters that their mother was suffering quite heavily from empty nest syndrome. And then there was Charlie.

"I'm sure Charlie is alright, mum," said Ron. His mother nodded grimly, but said nothing. Four years ago, when Bellatrix had taken Romania, Charlie had not escaped the country. They got a message from him was that he had stayed behind because the dragons in the sanctuary needed him. They had no idea how he was doing until two years ago, when Hermione smuggled out a message from him at great personal risk while she was attending a conference. The message stated that he was perfectly alright and that the Wallies give him all freedom take care of the dragons. Ron guessed that even the Wallies were in the market for an expert dragon wrangler.

As if sensing his thoughts, Molly put down another plate of pancakes before speaking. "It's so sad that you and Hermione broke up. You seemed to perfect for each other."

"Eh, it was just weird," shrugged Ron. "We're better off just being friends."

"I hope she's alright, the poor dear," said Molly.

"I miss her, really," said Ron while taking a bite. "Can't blame her for wanting to find her parents. And after what Snape did, I can't blame her for wanting out of the war too."

There was a flash of green from the living room and Ron smiled when his father stepped into the kitchen. After a brief peck on the cheek from his mother, Arthur Weasley moved on and clapped his son on the back. "It's good to see you, Ron. You been giving the Wallies hell in Denmark?"

"Arthur!" Molly admonished. "Let's talk about something else than the war for a change, hm? Ron just got home. There'll be plenty of time for war stories."

War stories. If there was one thing Ron hated, it was war stories. War stories were cool when they happened to someone else, and when he was too young and too stupid to understand the harsh realities of war. If Ron lived to be two hundred, he would never, ever tell any kind of war story ever again.

"Well," said Arthur as he produced a paper from his inner coat pocket. He unfolded it and put it down on the table next to the stack of pancakes. "They finally done the press release. It looks like we will be putting down some extra plates at the table soon."

Both Ron and Molly gave him a quizzical look until both of them saw the headline. They almost slammed their heads together to speed-read the rest of the front page article.

"Arthur," said his mother. "Is this true? This is... they can't do this!"

"They can and they will," Arthur sighed. "The higher-ups say the only response to Bellatrix's continuous breaches of Wizarding Secrecy."

Ron sank back in his chair, shaking his head. The Ministry had just passed a law which would mean that wizards would be taking away Muggle-born children from their parents and have them fostered with wizarding families. Any magical child born in the future and currently under the age of twelve would become wards of the Ministry. Wizarding families would be forced to take in and provide for them, while the original Muggle parents would have the memories of their children's existence removed. All in the name of protecting the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

Arthur grumbled slightly. "They're going to push the other Alliance nations to follow suit."

Ron just shook his head. "The world's gone completely fucking mental," he sighed.

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly admonished. "Language, young man!"

His father sat down next to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We're not going to close our door to little ones in need, but what the Ministry is doing is all kinds of wrong."

"Merlin's arse and Circe's tits," Ron sighed, making sure that his mother was out of earshot. "We're as rotten as the Wallies, aren't we? I haven't fought You-Know-Who or the Wallies just so the Ministry could start taking children away from their families!"

To say that Ron was outraged was an understatement. He seethed while balling his fists and slamming them on the table.

"For what it's worth, Ron. I completely agree," his father nodded solemnly.


	11. Can I Play With Madness?

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace library**

_What had happened? What the hell had just happened?_

Hermione Granger paced back and forth on the beach she had found herself after her mad dash through the forest. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks did nothing to soothe her. With her hands in her hair, she continued to pace and pace.

Bellatrix had kissed her. KISSED HER. _HER!_

And that wasn't the worst of it. She'd liked it. God, the memory alone. A mixture of want, arousal and utter terror. What was happening to her? She had to make sense of it. So, Hermione decided to do the only thing she could do; find the library.

After kicking some sand for good measure, Hermione stomped into the forest, only to be confronted with one of the snarling fiends she had undoubtedly ran past on her mad dash to the beach. The young witch steeled herself and kept on walking. Just as the rusalka was about to pounce, Hermione held her hand right in front of its face as she kept walking. "I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR YOU RIGHT NOW!" she shouted as she kept the pace, leaving the rather flabbergasted monster quickly behind her.

Her march of determination continued until well into the palace. She burst through the garden, into the lobby, through the corridors, past the offices and all without so much as even acknowledging the many people she passed.

Eventually, she burst through the double doors leading into the sizable palace library. Stacks piling with books were spread over a total of three floors, covering a range of subjects magical to Muggle. A few people were at the center tables reading and looked up at her quizzically as she entered.

By now, Hermione realized she was making a spectacle of herself, closed her eyes and forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down.

"Hermione," asked Artyom, the soft-spoken elderly librarian as he looked at her with concern. He was quickly at her side and peered over his reading glasses. "Are you alright? You don't look well."

"I... I'm fine, I..." Hermione lied, startled when she heard the obvious quiver in her voice. "I just... need a quiet place to think. To do... research."

Artyom raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I have prepared a pot of herbal tea. I can bring a cup to your usual reading corner, if you like."

A few moments later, a still tense Hermione was sitting in her private reading corner on the third floor, the smell of books surrounding her while drinking some tea in hopes to calm her nerves. Unfortunately, her hands shook so badly that she could barely hold her cup.

_'In love? With a woman? But… Okay, Hermione, try to think of this logically, use your brain',_ Hermione told herself. There was just no way she could be attracted to women. Sure, boys weren't exactly lining up to date her, but she did have some experience. _'Victor Krum, yes, you dated Victor Krum, a very eligible bachelor'._ So many girls had been jealous of her. Granted, she was perhaps a little too young to understand love at the time and... had she even been in love with him? Then there'd been Cormac McLaggen. ' _Oh dear god, NO!'_

Ron! Yes, Ron to the rescue. She was absolutely positively in love with Ron for a while. Yes, she was absolutely in love with him.

Except that she wasn't.

She and Ron parted as friends and both had been so relieved that it was over. And that left her with exactly zero counter-examples.

Hermione put down her cup of tea and took a few deep breaths. This… this wasn't happening, she was absolutely _not_ attracted to women whatsoever!

Then again. She did spend a lot of time with Ginny… but that was just as friends, right? She had plenty of friends. And Pansy… how she hated that bitch, but… at the same time, she secretly admired her for the way she carried herself. The sting of betrayal when she heard that Luna had switched sides was one of the worst feelings she had ever had. _'No, no, no, no, this isn't right!'_

She didn't want to think about Bellatrix. Whenever the dark witch crossed her mind, those horrible knots in her stomach kept coming back. As did those... desires. ' _Oh, god. oh, god…'_ The more it started to make sense, she more terrified she became.

' _Get a hold of yourself, Hermione!'_ the young witch told herself. All this simpering about feelings and confusion was completely useless. She needed evidence. Conclusive proof that she was or was not attracted to women. And she knew just where to look.

So Hermione found and opened a book on Russian magical fauna. She flipped through the table of contents and found an entry on Rusalki.

" _Rusalki are unquiet beings and known wizard killers. Restless spirits of young women who were either drowned against their will or committed suicide by drowning, these creatures stalk the forests of old in packs. A rusalka hides her monstrous form by assaulting the mind of her victims with powerful illusions. They feed on the flesh of their hapless victims, luring in people who are attracted to their seductive magics. It was long believed that they specifically targeted young men only, but more recent observations points to the fact that anyone attracted to women, regardless of age or gender, will be susceptible to a rusalka's seduction."_

There was a lot more information on Rusalki, but Hermione didn't bother. There it was, the irrefutable proof that she was attracted to women. Rusalki targeted everyone who was attracted to them... and she knew quite well that when she had come upon them in the forest their seductive magics had turned her into a drooling moron; if Bellatrix hadn't been there, they'd have devoured her. And even after her rescue, the rusalki kept trying to get at her by attempting to separate her from Bellatrix.

' _Okay,'_ sighed Hermione. ' _I'm at least bisexual, then.'_

However, Hermione did realize that whatever her sexuality was didn't matter. The person her feelings had targeted did.

Why Bellatrix? Why _her_? Why the woman who tortured her, tried to kill her and her friends? Why the woman who was waging war against people she cared about? Why the beautiful and terrifying Bellatrix Black? The very thought that it could be true terrified her. God, she still bore the scars of that dreadful night at Malfoy Manor; Bellatrix wanted her to join her cause, but she didn't have the bloody decency to even apologize for what she'd done to her!

A second book, one of psychology, contained what she believed was the answer. She flipped through the pages and found the topic she was looking for.

" _Stockholm Syndrome. A psychological phenomenon, also known as capture-bonding, during which a hostage can express an irrational empathy, sympathy or other positive feelings towards their captors, to the point of defending and identifying with them."_

There was a lot more on the subject, but Hermione figured this could be the cause of her feelings for Bellatrix. Though this palace was pretty much a gilded cage, she was definitely a captive here. She'd been taken from her home, from her friends, from her life and had been stuck her for months. And what was she doing? She was educating diplomats for the opposite side of the war; though she was telling herself otherwise, this was nothing short of treason. And Bellatrix had certainly been a tormentor.

But... Stockholm Syndrome couldn't be the entire answer here. For one, the people other than Bellatrix at the palace were far from homogeneous and were, for the most part, genuinely kind people who believed in what Bellatrix was trying to achieve. Also, there was the fact that, despite that it didn't negate all the torment, Bellatrix had done some genuinely nice things for her. Finding her parents, and now aiding them in finding a new home, for one.

The young witch let out a sob when tears started well from her eyes. "It can't be true," Hermione whispered to herself. "I can't be in love with Bellatrix..."

That kiss, though. That wonderful, terrible kiss. Her lips were so soft and it was hard to believe that the dark witch had been so gentle with her. Bellatrix... intelligent, beautiful, intense.

Being in love with Bellatrix felt like a betrayal; of her friends, of her parents, of her side, of her own ideals.

Hermione rushed into the hallways, leaving the library behind. Still reeling, a thousand and one thoughts went through her head. Arguments and counter-arguments. Theories and counter-theories. Hopes and dreams. Love and hate. Once she found where she needed to be, she knocked on the door. A veritable sight for sore eyes opened the door to the guest quarters.

"Hermione?" asked her mother. "Have you been crying? What's the matter?"

"Mum," Hermione sniffed. "I... I really need to talk to you."

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace guest quarters**

' _Mum, I think I'm in love with a woman'._

It was surprisingly easy to say those words, compared to how terrified she was after the words had left her mouth. An almost irrational fear of rejection overcame her; she actually started to hyperventilate until her mother held her tightly.

When she lay on her side on the sofa with her head on her mother's lap, she was just so grateful to have her mum in her life again. She had missed having her mum to talk to since, well, since she was twelve, basically. Her mother smiled as she stroked her hair, soothing her somewhat.

"Dad?"

"He and Ophelia went on a trip to what's likely to become our new house. I was about to join them there, but it can wait," said Emma Granger. "If the house meets Ophelia's seal of approval, it's almost certain we'll be living there. I thought any of us will have a say in the matter."

That made Hermione smile. "Do you think he'll..."

"No," Emma Granger laughed briefly. "Sweetie, your father is going to be absolutely delighted that you've found somebody, regardless of gender."

Hermione closed her eyes. "I feel as if I don't know you both anymore," she said. "And that's entirely my own fault."

"There's so much of your life that we've missed," said her mother. There was a slight touch of pain and regret on her voice. "First sending you off to a boarding school. Then the spell. Good lord, you're so young and you've fought in not one but two wars. Nobody should have to go through that alone."

"I've had my friends," whispered Hermione.

"That's not the same, Hermione, and you know it."

"I'm never leaving again, mum," said Hermione. "I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be part of the family again, part of your lives."

Her mother kept stroking her hair, giving her an intense feeling of safety and comfort. Her mother used to do this when she was little and skinned her knees playing outside, or when she came back from school having been mercilessly teased by some of her classmates. Laying there, she was that little girl again; in the loving care of her mother. It was such a good feeling.

"And, instead of a son-in-law, we'll get a daughter-in-law," her mother said. "So, am I going to be told who this lucky lady is? Is it that nice Lovegood girl? You seem to be spending a lot of time with her."

Her eyes almost rolled out of her sockets when she heard that. "No!" Hermione protested, only to follow it up with a sigh. "If only..."

That caused her mother to frown. "From your reaction, I take it that you don't particularly like the person you've fallen for. Am I right about that? Who is it?"

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "It's Bellatrix... Lady Black," she stammered, as if speaking the name itself was a painful and embarrassing admission.

Her mother's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "The lady who abducted you? The one who owns this palace and is basically on her way to becoming a global power?"

Again, Hermione nodded without speaking a world.

"Well," chuckled her mother. "You certainly aim high."

That comment made Hermione bristle somewhat. "Mum, this isn't funny. I showed you the scar on my arm. _She_ did that! She tried to murder me and my friends when she was still a servant of Voldemort! Oh, god, why am I in love with her? With her of all people?!"

"It's not always up to you," said her mother. "Tell me, you are no fool, Hermione. Surely there must be positive sides to Bellatrix Black. You are attracted to her for a reason. It might give you a clue as to the why of it."

"She's... intelligent."

"Good," said her mother. "There's a match there."

"She's... driven. She's intense. She's..."

"Slow down for a bit," said her mother. "What has surprised you the most about her? The things you weren't expecting."

Hermione thought for a moment. "She cares about her people. I wasn't expecting that at all."

"Good," said Emma. "Anything else?"

"She... listened to me."

"Hm?"

Hermione told her about what had happened at Zauberbach, how Bellatrix wanted to send in a squad of battle-magi to free her people and raze it to the ground. Then, she told her how she had used her diplomatic skills to negotiate a release. "She listened to me," smiled Hermione. "I gave her an option she didn't see, and Bellatrix took it with both hands. Snape never listened me, he only did when it suited him; he always did what he thought was the best option for his future plans regardless of my input."

"She makes you feel appreciated," said her mother. "I think I'm getting a pretty clear picture as to why you might have fallen for her. I think an important question you have to ask yourself is what do _you_ want? Do you want to pursue this?"

"I don't think I have much choice," Hermione snorted. "Bellatrix kissed _me,_ not the other way around. It's she who is pursuing _me_. Bellatrix is the kind of woman who gets what she wants and doesn't take no for an answer."

"Honestly, that sounds rather familiar," Emma Granger smiled.

"MUM!" Hermione huffed. "You're supposed to talk me _out_ of this."

"Oh, come now," said her mother. "Even when you were little, I never once met a child as focused and determined as you are. You are like a laser-guided missile when you get an idea in your head, and you go for it with all your heart. I've always thought that the man... or woman in this case... who'd come to share your life must be made out of stern stuff. You need a lover who is also a sparring partner. This Bellatrix, honestly, sounds like a perfect match for you."

Hermione closed her eyes. "I'm starting to think you know me a little _too_ well."

"You were the one who came to _me_ for advice," her mother chuckled at Hermione's discomfort. "Sweetie, it's going to be fine. I think you need to stop worrying. Sure, she might have done horrible things in the past, but by your own admission, she's not the same person she used to be. Everybody deserves a chance to be happy."

Hermione muttered briefly. "Are you talking about me or her?"

"Both," said Emma. "Did I tell you that I utterly detested your father when we first met?"

That statement caused some raised eyebrows. "Mum?"

"It's true!" she laughed. "I thought he was a loud-mouth braggard who took nothing seriously. He actually stole a human skull from the university to use as a desk decoration! But, all the while my brain was screaming 'no!' I had all these feelings soaring through me. I decided to follow my heart and now we have two wonderful daughters."

"Thanks, mum," said Hermione. "C-could I just... lie here for a little bit longer?"

Emma Granger resumed stroking her daughter's hair. "Of course, sweetie. You can stay here with me for as long as you like."

"So... that skull dad used to have in his study wasn't made of plastic?"

"Let's not talk about that ever again."

"I took that thing with me to kindergarten for show and tell!"

"Not ever again, sweetie."

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

God, what a day.

Hermione threw herself on her bed, emotionally exhausted from her ordeal. And it wasn't even late in the evening. Worse yet, due to everything that had happened to her, she had completely forgotten all about her students. She promised herself to write letters of apology first thing in the morning, because she doubted if she should pick classes up again in the near future in the state she was in.

She lay on her side and hugged a pillow close to her chest. What a mess. What a terrible mess. How could she even face Bellatrix now? Worse yet, she was still a captive and there was really no way to get away from her.

Rest. She needed rest. Sleep on it for one night, at least. Hermione closed her eyes and already felt herself slipping into morpheus' embrace. Sleep. No dreams. No thoughts. No worries. Just sleep.

A pop sounded near her and, for a moment, Hermione let out an annoyed groan before she realized just what that pop meant. When she did, her eyes shot open and she became instantly aware that there was someone in the room with her. Slowly, very slowly, Hermione turned her head; only to see a rather vexed Bellatrix standing at the foot-end of the bed, looking down at her.

Immediately, Hermione scrambled out of bed, attempting to get some distance between her and the dark witch.

"You know, little girl," Bellatrix crossed her arms as she started pacing circles in front of the foot-end. "You made me do something I have never done in my life. Do you know what that is?"

"No," Hermione replied, surprised at how tiny and timid her voice sounded.

"I went to see some people I know I can rely upon to ask them for relationship advice," Bellatrix chuckled to herself. "Me. Bellatrix Black, asking for relationship advice. You have an effect on me, little girl. They all said I should give you space, but really, I don't want to give you space."

Hermione gulped when Bellatrix took a few steps closer, an odd look of longing in her expression. "I know what I want. And I know what you want," Bellatrix put a finger to her lips and let out a slight purr.

The sound made a shudder go through Hermione. If Bellatrix was attempting to be seductive, she was definitely succeeding. It was then that Hermione got a rather horrible feeling. What if it was yet another lie? Yes. Yes, that had to be it! It had to be some sort of spell cast on her, a new torment for Bellatrix to inflict upon her.

"Know what I want?" Hermione shook her head. "This is just another one of your sick headgames, isn't it?!"

Bellatrix remained silent, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly.

"God, what a fool I've been!" Hermione threw in her face. "What is it? Is regular torment not entertaining enough for you anymore? So now you're toying with my heart?"

Bellatrix's was definitely getting angry now, but Hermione was beyond caring at this point. "Is that what you believe?" Bellatrix hissed.

"You don't even respect me enough to use my name!" Hermione yelled back after stepping forward enough to stare Bellatrix in the eye. She knew she was playing with fire, but what she wanted to say yearned for release. "It's always 'mudblood' this, or 'little girl' that. I HAVE A NAME!"

This was how Hermione learned to always expect the unexpected. The dark witch's expression actually softened somewhat, and spoke a single word.

"Hermione..."

It wasn't so much that she said it, but rather how she said it. It conveyed an equal measure of desire, laced with the barest amount of subtle apology. Oh, there was no way the dark witch would ever speak the words out loud, but the undeniable sincerity made her anger melt like snow in the sun.

She gasped when Bellatrix took a step towards her. Hermione was close enough to her to smell her perfume. Her breath quickened when the dark witch grinned at her and took another step closer. Hermione flinched when Bellatrix raised a hand and gently lay it on her cheek. Her lips trembled; there was nothing Hermione wanted more than for Bellatrix to kiss her again. Something that made her feel both excited and ashamed.

There was no resistance when she felt an arm wrap around her waist. There was no resistance when she felt Bellatrix's hand slide to the back of her head to guide her towards her. But there was bliss when she felt soft lips touch hers.

God. Oh, god.

She felt Bellatrix's warmth, her closeness. She smelled the scent of her shampoo, felt the softness of her skin. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands lay on Bellatrix's sides. They rested there for a moment, before sliding over her back. Bellatrix apparently interpreted this as an invitation and pressed her body against hers.

Hermione swooned slightly, overcome with desire for this terrifying woman. She wanted her. God, she wanted her. This was different than the feelings she had had for anyone before; it was so much stronger than the feelings she had for Viktor or Ron.

Though she thought it was impossible, the kiss got even better. The dark witch gently parted her lips with her tongue. Hermione's breath caught in her throat when their tongues touched. It was a soft and gentle invasion, with the tip of her tongue teasingly flicking until it slid provocatively over hers.

And the best part yet? Bellatrix was enjoying it too. The dark witch moaned in her mouth as she deepened the kiss. Hermione almost lost herself in her desire, going weak in the knees, her loins on fire. Thankfully, Bellatrix was savvy enough to guide her to the sofa in the room while holding on to her.

When Hermione opened her eyes and saw Bellatrix looking at her, Hermione finally understood. Bellatrix wasn't the only one who was lonely. Five long years she'd been on the road, living for her work. She had no friends other than Harry and Ron, nor had she ever had time or felt the need to find someone to love. It was only now that she had been reunited with her parents and had met her little sister that she realized just how lonely she had been. In that moment, she and Bellatrix weren't so different. Two intelligent, driven and yet lonely women. Both having that desperate longing for closeness.

Good god, what was she getting herself into?

"Are you scared?" Bellatrix asked with surprisingly gentle tone.

While pressing her head against Bellatrix's chest, Hermione nodded ever so slightly. Yes, she was scared. She was very scared.

"How ironic," spoke Bellatrix. "The only time I really don't want you to be..."

* * *

**30th of September 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

The girl was asleep now. Poor thing, she was exhausted. Bellatrix lay on bed, holding the girl while she slept. Well, Hermione Granger certainly had a talent for making things difficult for herself.

Bringing the girl to the palace was only supposed to be move in the long-term chessgame she was playing with Snivellus. Taking Hermione Granger from him would be akin to taking his rook. The last thing Bellatrix expected was to actually fall for the girl.

She didn't know exactly when she had started to fall for the girl. Maybe it was when she started to grow a spine, and Bellatrix had gradually started to look forward to sparring with her. Maybe it was because she recognized something of herself in the girl; intelligent, driven, yet stuck in the trappings of her own making. Maybe it was for the way the girl was around her sister; fiercely protective despite only having known her for scant a few weeks. Maybe it was for the gratitude and sincere compassion in her eyes, first when she was reunited with her family and second when Hermione had listened to her during her embarrassing moment of weakness. In the end, did it really matter?

It was beyond ironic, really. As leader of the Walpurgis Union, she could have any man or woman she wanted; if she were to announce she was looking for a companion, they'd be lining up for as far as the eye could see. Certainly it would fit the picture the Alliance painted of her; a decadent playgirl with a new lover in her bed every evening.

The truth was that Bellatrix had been leading a decidedly celibate existence the past five years. Though she had had plenty of affairs during the early years of her ill-fated marriage, she had become very picky. Oh, she wasn't going to give in to just anybody; her affections were only to be lavished upon those she deemed worthy of her. Unfortunately for her, she tended to fall for those out of her reach.

The Granger girl had every reason to hate her. Bellatrix had tortured her in the past, hated her for her inferior blood, and they had been on opposite ends of not one but two wars. Well… seeing she was lying trembling in her arms, Hermione Granger didn't seem to be so far out of reach anymore.

Still, Bellatrix had no illusions that the road to this victory had come easy to her. She'd spent the last week in solitary contemplation trying to make sense of what she was feeling. She should be disgusted, both at herself and at the girl; Bellatrix Black, the paragon of blood purity, involved with a filthy little mudblood like her? It was unthinkable… frightening, even. There were times when Bellatrix had almost decided that the best option would be to simply eliminate her. But what would that solve? Killing the girl wouldn't make those feelings go away. Lock her in the dungeons and throw away the key, then? That had been tempting. But in the end, she had come to a completely different decision.

_Why not?_

_Why not go for it?_

That slip of a girl, that annoying mudblood. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to stop what she was doing. And yet she found herself drawn to the girl as a moth to flame. There was even staunch admiration for her for holding onto her ideals in the face of adversity.

Even Bellatrix herself knew that she wasn't the person she used to be. Though it was hard to escape from the values she had been raised with, it dawned on her that she was now at the head of one of the largest empires the wizarding world had ever known. She was more free than he had ever been! As free as the dragon flying through the air around this island. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted to do! And if that meant pursuing a romance with the mudblood Hermione Granger, then who would even _dare_ to stop her?

"I make the rules now, my little Hermione," Bellatrix whispered in the sleeping girl's ear. "This world belongs to _us_."

Bellatrix was very much familiar with the feeling of being in love and pining for someone… perhaps better than anyone. Right now, nothing seemed more important that Hermione Granger. And she _would_ have her.

She would contend with holding the sleeping girl for a bit longer. Tomorrow would be another day.


	12. Wasted Years

**1st of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

' _Bloody hell, I've been burgled!'_ was Hermione's first thought upon slowly awakening in her bed. Indeed, 'stripped' would be the best way to describe the current state of her room. All her books, her bookcases, any and all furniture was just... gone. All that was left was the bed she was laying on... and even all the unused pillows and the nightstand had been removed. Honestly, she was surprised that there was still wallpaper up on the walls.

Hermione groaned as she sat up in bed. Of course, her dresser was gone too, as well as the clothes it contained. Great. Just great.

Thankfully, she was still dressed from the previous night. Memories came flooding back. Being held, being kissed... oh, that wonderful kiss. Bellatrix, of course, was nowhere in sight. Though Hermione supposed that was a small mercy as she still had no idea how to face her. Beautiful, terrifying Bellatrix Black.

While she rubbed her forehead, she was started to see something moving from the corner of her eye. She slid to one side, snapping her head towards the movement. It revealed a female house-elf looking straight at her.

The house-elf looked up at her with big eyes and mumbled a greeting in Russian. Now, even though she had been at the palace for months, all communication was in English on orders of Bellatrix. As such, she had only very basic knowledge of the Russian language and certainly not enough to communicate with the house-elf, which were exempt from that rule.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I..."

The house-elf cocked her head and motioned for her to step towards her. It was obvious that the elf wanted her to come with her. Seeing as washing up was out of the question without towels and fresh clothes, Hermione did so. The elf took her hand and immediately she went through the sensations of magically transporting to another location.

When she came into being once more, she found herself standing in the middle of a large and cozy room. All the books she had gathered were neatly stacked upon rows of beautiful ancient oaken cases along the walls of the room. A cozy fire was roaring in a gothic looking fireplace surrounded by a reading chair and a leather sofa. The floor was carpeted, with various rugs spread about the place. Near the large open windows was a massive writing desk, adorned with a series of expensive looking quills. A small bar with several bottles of wine were near the desk. Aside from that, though some of the classy furniture looked to be ancient, the entire room smelled of 'new' and was lacking any speck of dust.

While Hermione regarded this study with mouth agape, the elf had apparently excused herself. Suddenly, two hands lay on her shoulders from behind, sliding down to rest on her upper arms. Undoubtedly, it was Bellatrix whom had parked her chin on her shoulder and let out a brief purr. It made a shudder go through Hermione's body as that familiar mix of allure and terrifying returned in full force.

"Do you like it?" said Bellatrix, more of a statement than an actual question. She was _supposed_ to like this and, honestly, she did.

"It's beautiful," replied Hermione. "Where... where is this?"

"It's in my private wing," said Bellatrix. "I had one of the nicer sitting rooms converted into a study worthy of you."

While Bellatrix was tracing patterns over her upper arms with her nails, Hermione composed herself. It was hard to concentrate with butterflies fluttering in her stomach due to Bellatrix's closeness. Yep, she was still in love.

Hermione had to admit that she was rather flattered. Her old office back in Norwich was something akin to a broomcloset. However, there was one thing which made her wonder.

"I don't see a bathroom," said Hermione. "Or a bed. Where is my dresser?"

"Oh, you silly little goose," Bellatrix let out playful cackle. "You'll be sleeping in _my_ bedroom. With me."

That little tidbit of information almost made Hermione jump through the ceiling. She turned around to face the dark witch, expecting to find the usual smirk of triumph whenever she had pulled one over on her. It wasn't there. Bellatrix's expression was utterly serious.

Hermione swallowed hard. Honestly, she hadn't given much thought to whatever this... thing... Bellatrix was pursuing would lead to, but from the sultry smile the dark witch was giving her was giving her a fair idea.

Feeling her cheeks flush warmly, Hermione stammered a response. "D-don't you think t-that is moving a bit... fast?"

Bellatrix frowned, cocking her head slightly. "No," spoke Bellatrix in a confused tone.

"I mean..." Hermione stepped away from the dark witch, needing some space for herself. "I, uh, we've only just... started... kiss... I... How about something like dinner first, hm?"

That confused the dark witch. "Dinner," she repeated, letting the word roll over her tongue as if trying to analyze its meaning. "Dinner?"

"Dinner," Hermione nodded. "To... start things slowly."

"Slow," Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Slow is boring."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Even so..."

"Very well," said Bellatrix, raising her chin imperiously. "If it pleases you..."

Less than half a minute later, Hermione found herself sitting opposite to Bellatrix in a luxuriously decorated private dining chamber within the private wing... where she apparently lived now too. In front of them was served a lavish breakfast with meals ranging from toast to tea, to baked beans to bacon and eggs.

The food wasn't the problem; it was definitely delicious. However, there was a palpable silence in the room which was distinctly uncomfortable. Hermione wasn't the only one to notice this, it seemed.

"Well?" Bellatrix said with a certain edge of frustration.

"Well what?"

"Say something!" Bellatrix hissed.

Hermione blinked. "Uh, well, what do you want me to say?"

"Make small talk or somesuch," Bellatrix returned.

Okay, small talk. She could do small talk. "Nice, uh, weather, we're having?"

Immediately, Bellatrix turned irate. "Are you taking the piss? It's cold, damp and cloudy. Come on, make more small talk."

"We just did."

Hermione winced when Bellatrix smashed her fork down onto the plate with a responding clang. "Well, then make BETTER small talk!"

Hermione closed her eyes, already having had enough of this. "This is pointless," she said while rising from her seat. "Enjoy the rest of your day," she added, letting coldness slip into her voice. As she turned to leave, a single word stopped her in her tracks.

"Wait."

It wasn't an imperious command or a threat. It was spoken almost as a whisper, a plea. Hermione turned around and was surprised to see a startling amount of vulnerability in Bellatrix. The dark witch avoided her gaze, looking down to her plate while apparently struggling to figure out what to do next.

"I know," said Hermione while sliding down into her seat once more. "I… this is awkward for me too."

The dark witch looked at her intently. "I don't know how to... 'woo' someone. The only person I have ever pursued... well, let's just say that it didn't end well."

Voldemort. She was talking about Voldemort, of course. Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for Bellatrix; to be in love with someone who didn't understand what love even was. These days, whenever Voldemort was mentioned, the dark witch showed nothing but disdain for him. Hermione supposed that was a small mercy; if Bellatrix had gotten over her obsession with Voldemort, she had the capacity to improve herself. Still, this left her with one burning question.

"If he was the only one you pursued... does that mean you never fell in love with anyone else before?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix shook her head. "Fall in love? Sure. But pursuing? No."

"Truly?" Hermione frowned. "Nobody? Not even in school?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Most of my life was laid out for me by my parents. I had suitors, but I never… dated. I didn't see the need. I was to marry a man my father had matched me with right after graduation. Duty to my family, to our pure-blood ideals, went before everything. I first met Rodolphus a few days before the wedding."

"God," Hermione shook her head with distaste. "How could any parent do that to their own child? It's abhorrent."

Bellatrix snorted. "You don't have to tell me twice. My marriage was as empty as could be expected."

"Was he… abusive?" Hermione asked carefully.

Upon hearing this, Bellatrix gave her an odd look before bursting into laughter. And then more laughter. In fact, Hermione was getting rather embarrassed when Bellatrix was laughing so hard that tears started run. "Oh, my, my, my, do you honestly think I'd _let_ him?" she spoke while still chuckling. "If anything, _I_ was the abusive one. But what about you, hm? Any passionate love-affairs to speak of?"

Hermione almost snorted. "Hardly," she replied, making it sound more bitter than she had intended. "There was... some romantic interest, but people weren't exactly lining up."

"People are idiots," said Bellatrix. "Not worthy of someone like you."

That compliment made Hermione blush slightly. "I never really had time for... love. What with the rise of Voldemort, the horcrux hunt. And then the war after that."

"Fair enough," Bellatrix shook her head. "I was hoping, though, that you would have some more experience with wooing people than I have."

"Sorry to disappoint," Hermione said.

"In that case, how about we finish breakfast, head over to the sofa and snog like a couple of randy teenagers?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. It wasn't so much a joke as an actual suggestion.

"I have a better idea," Hermione said nervously. "How about... we go on a date?"

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "A date?"

"Yeah," replied Hermione. "It's not that hard. Just... take me somewhere nice."

The dark witch seemed to struggle with the concept for a moment. "The sofa isn't nice?"

"You know what I mean," said Hermione. Until she realized that Bellatrix probably _didn't_ know what she meant. "Just... spend some time together. Get to know each other a bit more."

"Take you somewhere nice, hm?" said Bellatrix. "How about... the garden?"

Hermione smiled, and looked wistfully out of the window, in the general direction of St. Petersburg over the water.

* * *

**1st of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Kosoi Pereulok shopping street**

Thankfully, Bellatrix knew how to take a hint. It was late morning on a relatively quiet Wednesday in a quaint little shopping street of a wizarding quarter in St. Petersburg, and the weather had improved since this morning. The wizards and witches of St. Peterburg walked all around them, cheerfully shopping, chatting or enjoying one of the many cafes. All in all, it was a rather idyllic. If it weren't for the Walpurgis Union propaganda everywhere, it wouldn't be very distinguishable from home.

Of course, this idyllic image was in stark contrast to the image Phoenix Alliance propaganda painted; if the propaganda was to be believed, all wizards living under Walpurgis rule were miserable, beaten-down and oppressed people. Then again, that was exactly what the Union saying about the wizards living in Phoenix Alliance countries and she knew that wasn't true either.

Bellatrix walked next to her, both having donned a cloak which would magically hide their identity. That was probably wise, considering they'd probably get mobbed by a group of the dark witch's many followers. For her part, Bellatrix actually seemed almost as nervous about this date as Hermione was.

They eventually found themselves on the outside balcony of a pleasant little cafe. The table they were sitting at was nicely private and the view of the ocean and the city skyline was fantastic. In the distance, hidden from Muggle eyes but very much visible by wizards, was Buyan island. It was nice to see it from a very different perspective.

Two delicious and inviting luxury icecreams in a long-stemmed glass stood on the table. Eating icecreams on a date was very much cliche, but considering it had never actually happened to her before, it wasn't such a bad thing.

"So this is what a date is like, then," Bellatrix mused while popping the cherry on top of the icecream into her mouth. "Huh."

"You like it?" Hermione asked, finding it surprisingly hard to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"I certainly don't hate it. It's... different," said Bellatrix. "Though I'd probably be giving all my bodyguards a heart-attack for being out of the palace on my own if they knew."

"I have to admit I had some help," Hermione said, as she had been the one to guide this date along. Though she had spent some time on a date with Ron very briefly, she got most of her information from a library source. She produced a book and put it on top of the table. The dark witch frowned, turned it around and read the title.

" _The Lonely Hearts' Guide to Dating_ ," Bellatrix repeated before dropping the book back on the table. Hermione quickly took it and replaced it in her bag to once again focus completely on her icecream.

"Thank you for giving my parents a new home," said Hermione between bites. "You didn't have to do that."

"Eh," Bellatrix shrugged. "We can easily afford it. Besides, there's not much call for dentists at the palace. Truth be told, I ordered Lovegood to find your parents solely for the reason to convince you to join our side. What happened was... unexpected."

"I'll say that again," Hermione offered a weak smile while Bellatrix took a bite from her icecream. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Ask," Bellatrix shrugged. "I might or might not answer."

Hermione put down her spoon while looking Bellatrix in the eye. "Have you ever... had a relationship with a woman before?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes slightly. She fell silent for a bit, and appeared to be in conflict with herself. The dark witch looked away, eyes darting towards Buyan island. "There was a girl. In Azkaban," Bellatrix whispered softly. "And spare me any 'witches in prison' nonsense, thank you very much. I get enough of that from Antonin."

"I'm not judging you," Hermione spoke sincerely.

"I suppose not," replied Bellatrix. "In that place of utter misery, we found joy with each other."

"What was her name?"

"I don't remember," said Bellatrix. "I don't remember much at all, in fact. I know for sure that she existed, though."

"What? How is that possible?"

"Dementors," Bellatrix's expression twisted into an odd mixture of rage and sadness. "Happiness, joy, love… the dementors took it all away from us. I can't remember her name, I can't remember her face. It's just... snippets, feelings, flashes."

Hermione bent forward, listening intently.

"She was some sort of Ministry worker who had embezzled some number of galleons or somesuch," said Bellatrix. "There was some sort of shortage of space so I got her as a cellmate. Oh, I wasn't happy about it at all. She wasn't worthy to be in my presence. She was a petty half-blood criminal while I considered myself a pure-blood martyr for my lord. I made her life hell, and forced her to stay in her half of the cell."

"Half?"

"Well, not exactly," said Bellatrix. "It was more like a corner."

"A corner."

"A very small corner."

Bellatrix shook her head. "Shared misery creates a bond, though. I'm not sure how it happened, but I remembered that we once had something… flashes of long talks in our cell, holding each other, kissing, making love, being happy. That was before the dementors fed on us until they were like bloated ticks. Oh, took their time, no sense in eating the entire meal at once. After the dementors fed, we sought each other's solace. And the cycle began again. But every time they fed they took more and more from us until there was nothing left. No memories, no feelings, just emptiness. And when her sentence ended, she was released while I stayed behind.

"Oh, god. I can't imagine those terrors," Hermione shook her head.

"It's why I don't allow the use of dementors as weapons of war," Bellatrix snarled and slammed a fist on the table. "I want Azkaban wiped off the face of the Earth! I want to find a way to eradicate every single dementor and utterly destroy them all! That Snape uses them to launch terror attacks on our civilians is very telling, don't you think?"

Hermione knew that Bellatrix didn't care much for being pitied, but at the same time realized that Bellatrix had had a truly awful life. She reached out and gently laid her hand over Bellatrix's fist. "I'm so sorry."

"There's that look again," Bellatrix's lips curled up into a brief smile. "But enough about me, hm? What about you? Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Like I said, I, uh, haven't had much experience."

It was then that Bellatrix looked at her intently. Suddenly, the dark witch threw her head back and let out a ladylike giggle. "Oh, Merlin! That can't be true, can it? You're a virgin?!"

That made Hermione sputter. "W-what does that have to do with anything?"

"Ah-hah! So it's true," laughed Bellatrix. "And you're twenty-two years old! Awww, you poor, poor thing."

"I've just... I... Look, I've always been really preoccupied and busy. Diplomatic incidents don't solve themselves, you see?" said Hermione. "And there was this little thing with stopping the rise of Voldemort and... Look, why am I even defending myself?! There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

"Really?" Bellatrix winked. "I half expected you to at least have let the Weasley boy have a poke at you."

"Oh, don't be crass!" Hermione huffed. "And we were having such a lovely day! Honestly, I thought you were more mature than this! But I suppose class, style and sophistication is too much to ask from one of the most powerful women in the entire wizarding world! Yes, Hermione Granger is a virgin. Hah, bloody, hah, let's all have a bit of a laugh at the twenty-two year old virgin. Are you happy now?!"

By now, Bellatrix had laid her head on the table while her body shook from laughter. "Oh, Merlin," laughed Bellatrix. "You should see the look on your face!"

A rather incredulous Hermione just sat back and let that sink for a bit. And then she smiled. And snorted. And finally laughed. "Oh, god, you're a terror." It seemed Bellatrix had gotten over her nervousness and was once again testing Hermione's defenses. Thankfully, she wasn't overly malicious about it.

"Don't worry," Bellatrix smirked. "I have plenty of... experience. I wasn't exactly a faithful wife."

"Come again?" Hermione asked, too late to stop herself from uttering a horrible double-entendre.

"Oh, definitely," Bellatrix spoke with a husky voice while giving her a sultry look.

"No, I meant," Hermione caught herself. "I think I heard you say you didn't date."

"Hah!" said Bellatrix. "Sex and dating are two _very_ different things, sweet thing." The way she winked at her after that statement made the young witch feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Right," replied Hermione. "Sorry I asked now."

With the icecreams well and truly finished, Bellatrix sat back in her chair and watched Hermione expectantly.

"Okay, what's next?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix smirked slightly, giving her date a studious glance. She bent forward to look her in the eyes. "You're the one with the guidebook," she grinned. "You tell me."

Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable under Bellatrix's stare. She quickly took out the book and started leafing through it, desperately trying to find a section that was applicable to their current situation. Her hands started to tremble while Bellatrix never stopped staring at her. Good god, the intensity in her eyes. Unable to bear it anymore, Hermione slammed the book to the table. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?" Hermione crossed her arms in a feeble attempt to stare her down. When Bellatrix's grin widened considerably, she had her answer.

The book was quickly cast aside. "Let's... just stand at the railing and watch the sea for a bit?"

And so they did. The couple stood at the railing overlooking the Gulf of Finland. The sun was out now, despite it being an autumn day, and reflected off the water. The smell of the lilies hanging from the railing tickled her nostrils as Hermione looked at Bellatrix.

"This... is nice," said Bellatrix. Hermione could only agree.

* * *

**1st of October 2003 – Central Australia – Paddock Sprung Magical Community.**

Harry Potter closed his eyes as he enjoyed the cool of the night. The arid climates of Central Australia weren't all that good for his British sensibilities, but the cooler nights were much better. Consequently, night time was when the Australian wizarding community truly became alive.

Even though Central Australia was lacking in any number of Muggles, wizards thrived. Here, in the middle of the outback, and spread out over the entirely of the region, was the largest wizarding community in all of Australia. Villages and houses were spread out, even mostly located underground, but were connected through an complicated network of portkeys. The result was a tight-knit, friendly and somewhat direct community of opinionated witches and wizards.

It was all far less urban and stiff-upper lip than it was back home. Today, Harry had been invited to join a night-time celebration around a bonfire by the aboriginal neighbor of the house he was staying in. He'd been told it was some sort of ceremony to honor the ancestors. However, there was also a barbecue being held... very Australian. All in all, he was quite happy to have ditched his motel room and rented an underground apartment, even though he was paying it from his own pocket.

The wizarding world never ceased to amaze him and he'd certainly promised himself to return here with Ginny at some point.

He even got used to silly things like hanging a small mirror around his neck. The reason for this, as he was told, was to ward off hypno-scorpions. Without that little mirror around his neck, coming across one of those hypno-scorpions would have him under a trance in seconds and he'd spent the rest of the week scavenging around the underbrush to catch crickets to feed to his new lord and master. If Australian fauna was terrifying, Australian magical fauna was even worse. Apparently, the hypno-scorpion was a lesser threat... the tales of the levitating cassowary and the stealthy landshark had Harry looking over his shoulder quite often.

At least Harry had started to enjoy himself somewhat, even though the hunt for Hermione's family had not gone quite as planned. There's been so few leads that he'd been getting somewhat desperate, though he supposed that was because Hermione had been very thorough with wanting to protect her family.

"'Arry, mate!" sounded the familiar voice of the burly tall man named Rollo, his contact with the local aurors whom had become his friend. "Figured, I'd find you here. Tasting the local produce?"

Harry looked down at his plate. Fresh from the barbecue, he had eaten quite a bit of the meat already. "It's delicious, Rollo."

"You do realize that's snake, right?" Rollo chuckled.

Harry froze for a moment, looked down at this plate and then back to Rollo. "I'm still going to eat it."

"There's a good lad!" Rollo laughed. "Anyway, my mate at the AFP came through. We have a promising lead on your girlie's family. A married couple from the UK settled in Yamba at the East coast around the time the Grangers disappeared in the UK."

"What?" Harry's eyes grew wide. "What are we waiting for?"

"Calm down, calm down, mate!" Rollo held up his hands. "I'm having some of my blokes confirm it first. We don't want another repeat of Sydney, now would we? Besides, your snake's getting cold."

The young auror closed his eyes and nodded. One of their first leads had pointed in the direction of Sydney, which led to a week long wild goose chase through the Southern territories. "I suppose. I'm just... worried about my friend."

"I know, I know," said Rollo. "Let the interns do the wetwork for a change. We'll know more in a few days. Anyone been giving you a hard time?"

Harry instantly knew what Rollo was talking about; ever since the asinine news of the 'Muggle-born children reclamation law' came in from the UK, the reaction in Australia had been one of swift condemnation. Every pundit was talking about it and the reaction had been overwhelmingly negative, especially when the news was amended with the fact that UK considered itself a pioneering nation, and the intention was that the other Alliance nations should adopt this law as swiftly as possible.

"I've had some... confrontations," said Harry. "But those ended quickly when I told them just what I think of that idiotic law."

"Yeah," said Rollo. "We can be a rather direct bunch, can't we?"

"Sometimes I think the world has gone mad," Harry shook his head.

Rollo snorted. "The only people who've gone mad are the tossers in the UK Ministry. We're no longer a colony, we're no longer ruled by the British Ministry of Magic. They need to realize that."

Harry popped a bit of barbecued snake in his mouth and chewed a bit. "Do you think the Australian Ministry will actually adopt this law?"

Rollo let out a laugh in response. "Have you seen the reactions? There's going to be a revolution if they do and they know that. Nah, it's more likely that we'll say our goodbyes to the Alliance if you ask me. To be honest, Barmy Bellatrix never really bothered us. Sure, New Zealand is Walpurgis territory, but we've always had a friendly rivalry with them. I wouldn't say we're in a state of war, even. Being on the other side of the world from the troublemakers has its advantages, mate."

Harry nodded. Australia itself was untouched by the war, having only sent troops to Europe. New Zealand had done the same. The young auror adjusted his glasses and promised himself to do some traveling when this war was finally over. There was so much to see and experience in the wizarding world.

But first, to find Hermione.


	13. Nightfall

**1st of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Hermione's private quarters**

With a pop, Bellatrix and Hermione apparated in the palace, the young witch still laughing from what had just happened. "I can't believe you did that!" said Hermione, not an accusation but rather in an expression of merriment.

"Well, she was rude," said Bellatrix, a haughty expression on her face. "I wanted her to sweat for a bit."

"Removing your cloak and revealing who you really are to the entire cafe was certainly spectacular," replied Hermione. That was an understatement. When Bellatrix had revealed herself and started berating the waitress whom had not only short-changed them but had been really rude about it, they had managed to attract a lot of attention from both in and outside of the cafe. The best thing to do was to eventually leave by disapparating. It was a rather spectacular ending to an unexpectedly fun date.

It was only now that she realized that Bellatrix had apparated them to her bedroom in her private wing, apparently right through all the protections and wards set up around the castle. As far as she knew, that shouldn't be possible to do.

Any thoughts of Bellatrix's miraculous magical ability were superseded by the fact that she was standing in Bellatrix's bedroom. And a gorgeous room it was; carpeted, lined with dressers, and sporting large windows to one side with a beautiful balcony overlooking the garden beyond. The underside of the walls were lined with dark walnut-wooden paneling, giving the room the look of an old English countryhouse rather than a Russian palace. A cozy fireplace was near the double doors leading into the hallway, and there was room for a sitting area with a small table near the window. Above the fireplace, in a place of honor, hung a large non-moving painting of three girls... the Black sisters in better days. Somehow Bellatrix must have had salvaged that painting. That she had hung it in her most private sanctum where few people ever came was very telling.

The room was dominated by an absolutely massive four-poster bed. It was the kind of bed that would easily fit six people with room to spare. It looked soft and inviting. Of course, she remembered that the dark witch was expecting her to sleep in that bed with her. A slight blush crept to her cheeks. Both sleep and... 'sleep'.

"Right," said Bellatrix. "Like I said, this is now your bedroom as well as mine. All your clothes are in that dresser over there. I've also had the house-elves move all your towels and toiletries to the bathroom."

Bellatrix pointed to a single side door near the dresser which led to what was her private bathroom. Upon opening the door, Hermione was utterly amazed. The bathroom inside was about half the size of the already large bedroom and it was anything but usual. Marble floors, golden faucets, multiple showers, cupboards, mirrors and a massive bath built into the floor. "My god," Hermione gasped. "Is that a bath or an indoor pool?"

"I like my luxuries," Bellatrix spoke with pride while leading her back into the bedroom. "Hermione," she spoke with a serious tone while taking her by the wrist.

"I enjoyed our time together," said Hermione. "I... I didn't think I would."

"Because of what happened between us over five years ago?" asked Bellatrix.

That made Hermione gape like a fish on dry land. The first thing which came to her was outrage. "Legilimency?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You violated my mind?!"

"No," Bellatrix shook her head. "It's clear as day just from your expression. Roll up your sleeve."

The young witch tensed up, trying to yank free of Bellatrix's relentless iron grip. Seeing that she wasn't going to do it herself, Bellatrix did it for her. The fabric of her jumper gave little resistance to being bunched up just past her elbow, revealing her secret shame to the cold air. 'Mudblood', crudely craved in her skin.

"I've tried everything to get rid of it," Hermione whispered softly. "Ointments, therapy, powerful healing spells. Sometimes the wound re-opens and bloods starts running down my arm. Rather annoying during conferences. Eventually, I've just started to wear jumpers and shirts with long sleeves."

"It's a cursed wound," said Bellatrix in a soft tone. "From a cursed dagger."

"I gathered that," Hermione whispered while reliving parts of the terrible memory. The screams, the anger, the pain. Bellatrix sneering as she pushed her down to the ground. Anger once again soared through the young woman, and she suppressed the urge to push Bellatrix away from her.

"I've made many mistakes in my life," said Bellatrix as she placed her hand over the wound. "But this is, at least, one of them I can undo."

Before Hermione realized what was going on, a faint blue glow emanated from Bellatrix's hand. There was a soft tingling sensation going through Hermione's entire arm when the dark witch gently but slowly slid her hand from elbow to wrist. The light was so bright that Hermione was almost blinded by it. It was curative magic... but without any wand at all.

When the light finally subsided, Hermione was startled to see the wound completely gone. She was staring, mouth agape, at untouched pristine skin. She didn't even feel the wound anymore. Incredulously, Hermione felt her own skin to see if her eyes were deceiving her. "W-what did you do?" Hermione asked. "I've tried so much to... how?!"

Bellatrix was obviously pleased at Hermione's happy reaction. But more importantly, this brought home her sincerity. The dark witch really _had_ changed over the past five years and... as frightening as she herself found the thought, Hermione considered the two of them might actually have a future together.

A shudder went through her body when she felt Bellatrix starting to push her towards the bed. Oh, god, this was it. It was pretty much futile to resist; Bellatrix Black was an extremely passionate person. When she had her eyes on something... or someone, she'd give it her all. This was the dark witch's obsessive nature out in full force; she would not stop until Hermione was completely and utterly hers.

Not that she wanted to resist; though being the object of Bellatrix's flirtations was more than a little bit frightening, she'd be lying to herself if she'd say she hadn't been thinking about it.

The bed was impossibly soft, and Hermione whimpered slightly when Bellatrix shifted her weight on top of her. Their lips were still locked, the kiss becoming more and more intense and desperate. God, as she felt Bellatrix's tongue eagerly twirling around hers, Hermione never wanted this moment to end. A soft and unexpectedly gentle hand stroked her cheek when the dark witch shifted her leg to part Hermione's.

A shudder when through the young woman. Twenty-two years of being a virgin was about to come to an end. And with Bellatrix Black, no less. Her breath quickened, her chest heaved.

A slight cry of disappointment sounded when Bellatrix broke the kiss, only to devolve into a blissful whimper when the dark witch grabbed her by the chin and yanked her head to one side to kiss her neck. God, her tongue was sliding over her skin. The sensations...

"Say it," Bellatrix wickedly whispered in her ear, right before darting the tip of her tongue around her earlobe.

"I... I want..." Hermione whimpered.

A husky chuckle caught in Bellatrix's throat. Hermione let out a cry and arched her back when a hand lay on her breast, gently being massaged through the fabric of her clothes.

"Beg for it..." Bellatrix demanded, her lips leading a trail of butterfly kisses from Hermione's neck to her chin. There, she hovered, waiting for the answer.

"Please..." Hermione replied with a tiny voice. "Please..."

A low, cruel whisper sounded over the hammering of her heart. "How much do you want it?"

"M... More than anything..." replied Hermione, and that was definitely not a lie.

"You... are... mine," Bellatrix hissed.

And she was. In this moment of time, Hermione knew she completely and utterly belonged to Bellatrix. A throaty chuckle escaped from the dark witch as she leaned in for another kiss. Hermione slowly closed her eyes, waiting for the dark witch to claim her lips. Finding her courage, Hermione carefully lay her hands on her lover's side, slowly sliding upwards over her back. Due to her slight fumbling, the fingers of her left hand managed to get tangled in the laces on the back of Bellatrix's corset. Undoubtedly, the dark witch mistook this for her trying to remove her clothes and let out a throaty chuckle.

Too much, it was too much. Hermione pulled the dark witch on top on her and started to return the kiss with fiery passion.

All the more mortified was she, when the double doors leading into the bedroom flew open. It was one of Rookwood's assistants, a man by the name of Peter. Immediately, Bellatrix's head snapped towards the man while a look of pure unadulterated fury crossed her features; it was like seeing the 'old' Bellatrix again, a ball of hatred and fury waiting to explode in a fit of rage.

Peter stammered as he looked away, yet still had the urgency for whatever message he was supposed to deliver. "Uh, begging your pardon, Lady Black, but..."

"Bugger off," Bellatrix snarled in his general direction.

Peter became increasingly frightened while an embarrassed Hermione tried to cover herself with a pillow. "Chancellor Rookwood wants to see you immediately. There is a crisis..."

"GO AWAY!" Bellatrix shrieked, causing Hermione to wince.

"D...dark Lady," stammered Peter. "Phoenix Alliance battle-wizards have invaded Kenya and are besieging..."

Bellatrix's response was swift, decisive and merciless. "I TOLD YOU TO FUCK OFF!" Bellatrix drew her wand and pumped her arm towards Peter. The man shrieked like a banshee and started running off when a wordlessly chanted bolt of magical energy shot through the air. It blasted both doors from their hinges and shattered part of the wall beyond the corridor.

Bellatrix's chest was heaving as she hissed with anger. Quickly, Hermione lay her hand on her lover's cheek. "Bella," Hermione whispered, surprising herself with how gently she spoke Bellatrix's name. "It's alright. Duty calls. I know what that's like. And, well, it's the middle of the day."

"Hm," Bellatrix replied with obvious reluctance. "There's a full moon out tonight. I think... that would be more romantic, no?"

Hermione gulped. "It would at that."

Bellatrix grinned as she withdrew from Hermione. Before getting off the bed, the dark witch smirked at her while slowly sliding a single finger over her cheek. "Tonight," she husked. "I'll have the door fixed by then. Bugger it... I never was good at waiting."

And just like that, she was gone. Hermione didn't know if she should be relieved or disappointed. Perhaps both. She sat up for a moment, only let out a groan and threw herself back onto the bed, wanting to drown into the softness of the mattress and the velvet sheets... Velvet sheets. That was just so Bellatrix.

"God, I'm such a _virgin_!" Hermione cursed herself. Of course, starting tonight, she would be a virgin no longer and, honestly, it was about time. A wry chuckle escaped her; if she could travel back in time five years and tell her younger self that she was going to lose her virginity to the very alluring, sexy and surprisingly gentle Bellatrix Lestrange, she was certain that her younger self would hex her into next Tuesday for being an idiot.

Still, it was good to be prepared and Hermione always prided herself by always by going into a situation fully informed about every angle, possibility and viewpoint. This interruption would give her some time to take a bath to clean herself up and... prepare. So, with lead in her shoes, her first destination was the library.

The trip to the library had never taken quite so long. When she arrived, she found entirely too many people reading at the tables. With a blush already on her cheeks, she stepped to the friendly smiling Artyom.

"Ah, there is my favorite visitor," the elderly librarian greeted. "Would you like a cup of tea? I have a new blend you might like. It's got a very subtle hint of camil..."

"Uh, no, Artyom, I am... looking for a book," Hermione stammered.

Artyom chuckled briefly. "This is a library, Hermione. You should be more specific."

"I, uh," Hermione bent forward and whispered her need into his ear. Artyom's eyebrows shot into his hairline and bit his lip.

"Uhm, alright," said Artyom, rubbing his chin after adopting his unusual unflappable expression. "That's not the strangest thing someone asked for, surprisingly enough. I might have something."

That 'something' was an apparently recently released book titled ' _The Whole Lesbian Sex Book: A Passionate Guide for All of Us_ '. Considering the title and the picture on the cover, she was glad that Artyom had packaged it in a non-descript brown paper bag for her. Even so, getting back to Bellatrix's bedroom was like running a gauntlet; whenever she encountered someone in the hallway, she had a tendency to duck away quietly. This must be what buying a blue book in SoHo must have felt like back in the day.

Relief washed over her when she finally got back to the private wing. Finding elves already repairing the doors Bellatrix had destroyed, she elected to go to the lovely study Bellatrix had gifted her instead. She closed the door behind her, sat down at the desk and started leafing through the book.

For a book with such a blunt name, it was thankfully quite informative and well-written. Chapters on cuddling, positions, anatomy, breast-play, orgasms, 'supplements'. And the pictures, oh dear god, the pictures. She found her hands shaking with the turn of every page, honestly thinking that she couldn't possibly do what was in the book. So intently she read, looking forward so much to what was going to happen to her tonight, that she never heard the door open.

"Hello, Hermione," greeted Luna with a flighty voice as she stepped towards the desk.

Hermione let out a girlish shriek while almost shooting through the ceiling. Her hands jerked forward, almost causing her to thrust the book towards Luna. She caught herself, however, and managed to tear open the nearest drawer, throw the book in and close it shut with a loud bang. "I wasn't doing anything!" Hermione gave a stricken reply.

Luna seemed merely amused. "Considering you're reading that book, your date with Bellatrix must have gone quite well."

"How did you... oh, spymaster. Of course," Hermione chuckled uneasily while doing her best to maintain her innocence.

"Indeed," said Luna. "Bellatrix has caused quite a ruckus, but it's nothing we aren't used to. You see, I always have at least two agents standing by in case Bellatrix leaves the palace without protection. She is a very powerful witch, but she isn't omnipotent. So it's best to have someone keep an eye on her. She doesn't know this, of course."

"And then Bellatrix revealed her identity to the cafe."

"Ah, yes," laughed Luna. "She always had a flair for the dramatic. The rumor mill had already started to churn; who was this mystery woman whom Bellatrix was so clearly infatuated with earlier that day? I've already got agents on the task to suppress it."

Suddenly rather frightened, Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Luna?" she said. "Surely you don't mean... detaining or arresting people?"

"Oh, no, not at all," said Luna, apparently not bothered by the accusation. "We usually combat this sort of thing by the grace of misinformation. Planting contradictory rumors of our own, or a false memory or two. That sort of thing. In scant a few hours, it'll seem highly unlikely that Bellatrix has ever even been there. Trust me, we've done this before."

Hermione shook her head briefly. "Luna?" she asked. "You were there with us that night at Malfoy Manor. You heard my screams. Tell me, am I insane?"

Luna only smiled. "Hermione. You're as sane as I am."

"That's not comforting, Luna."

Luna only smiled in response. "There is something else I wish to discuss with you. We haven't talked about the implications of my mother's experiment."

"Oh?" Hermione crossed her arms. She was too polite to say it, but thought Luna's efforts were tantamount to a fool's errant. Still, that was an easier topic for her to deal with that discussing her relationship with Bellatrix at the moment, so she was somewhat grateful for the change of subject.

"Neither my mum nor the Durmstrang unspeakables were the first to perform this experiment," Luna said while she sauntered to Hermione's desk and took the chair there. "Though the Durmstrang researchers arguably got the closest."

She had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity here. "Closest to what?"

"The source."

"You're still talking in circles. Source of what?"

Luna flashed that mysterious smile. "Have you ever wondered where our magic comes from?"

Hermione had to admit that had her intrigued. Sure, there was plenty of speculation about the origin of magic, but honestly nobody knew for certain and there wasn't enough evidence to confirm any of the crafted theories. It was a complete mystery. Magic itself was a force, a power which altered reality on a fundamental level. There was no answer to be found in the Muggle world either; magic defied anything known about physics, chemistry and even biology. Yet Magic was bound to its own subset of rules, meaning there was a universal order to it just like any other natural law. The same and yet separate. But not entirely; magic was a form of energy and energy didn't just spring into being from nowhere.

Luna apparently took Hermione's silence as an answer. "It's no coincidence that the serpent plays a role in many mythologies. Apep the eater of souls, Jormangandr the world serpent and herald of Ragnarok. Nidhogg which chewed on the roots of the world tree. Typhon, the father of all monsters. Leviathan, the sea serpent of old. Ouroboros, the serpent who eats its own tail."

_'Ouroboros_.'

She had heard that before and not just because she knew what the word meant. Hearing Luna speak the word triggered a memory from her past, but try as she might she couldn't recall its relevance. However, it still made her blood run cold regardless. The mere mention of the name had clouded the room in a cold sense of unease.

"What do mythological reptiles have to do with the source of all magic?" Hermione asked.

Luna's smile faded, adopting a more grim look. "This experiment has been performed at least twenty times. I've found accounts reaching back as far back as ancient Egypt. All and any have ended up in disaster, the worst of which was at the ancient Roman city of Pompeii."

"Pompeii?" Hermione leaned forward. "The city destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius?"

Luna shook her head. "It was not a natural event. Tullius Tiro was a curious wizard who got too curious and performed the experiment in a cave on the side of the volcano. The result? Disastrous."

Hermione mind was reeling; just how many historical events did wizards have their hands in?

"It always starts the same. A wizard or witch who is unusually talented starts hearing whispers in his or her mind. It's described as being blind while a butterfly is fluttering its wings near one's cheek. It's close enough to sense it, but never close enough to actually feel it," said Luna. "Each experiment performed builds on its predecessor. Each researcher goes just a bit further. Just a step closer to the source."

"But what _is_ the source?" Hermione asked. "Nobody knows where magic comes from. Are you saying you _do_ know?"

"Not a what," said Luna with a dead serious expression. "A who."

That made Hermione shake her head. "Who are you talking about?" she spoke half-jokingly. "God?"

"God?" Luna replied. "Don't be silly. God doesn't exist."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You believe in the existence of Nargles, but not in god?"

"Of course," said Luna. "There's evidence for the existence of Nargles, but none for god. Do you believe in god?"

"Well, not exactly," Hermione replied.

"There you go," said Luna. "In any case, we are losing the plot. Think back to the creatures we talked about. You will notice that all these mentioned mythological serpents are far from benevolent. All are aspects of the source."

"Luna?" Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Answer me honestly. Are you planning to perform this experiment yourself?"

The next reaction was one Hermione hadn't been expecting. "No!" Luna replied harshly after snapping her head towards her friend. "This experiment must never be performed every again! My mother, my poor mother, made the same mistake every other wizard who performed the experiment made. They all ignored warning signs from other magical disciplines, from mythology and prophecies."

"Oh, and you _do_ see them?" Hermione crossed her arms. She'd been willing to give Luna the benefit of the doubt, but as always Luna had started off with an interesting theory which had quickly devolved into nonsensical gibberish. "Enough of this. Just tell me. What is it you believe you have found? What _is_ on the other side of this rift? You've been inching me towards this for months now. Just bloody tell me already."

Luna seemed hesitant for a moment. "Madness given form," she finally spoke. "A creature so vast, so alien, so incomprehensible that it warps and distorts reality it comes in contact with. The truth of this is visible to those who know where to look."

Hermione blinked. Once. Twice. "Oh, dear god," Hermione groaned. " _This_ is why you brought me here to Buyan Island? Luna, this is insanely nonsensical woo, even for you!"

Luna looked on silently while Hermione shook her head. "Alright, let's say that I give this lunacy any credence, which I don't. Where is your evidence for any of this? All I see here is a collection of wizards who performed a dangerous experiment and suffered the consequences. Luna, I'm so sorry about your mother, I really am. I understand that you're trying to give her death meaning, but honestly there isn't any shred of evidence for the existence of this mythological serpent gestalt entity."

Luna smiled briefly. "Decide for yourself," she said as she handed her a book and stood up to leave. "Tullius Tiro miraculously survived the eruption. The book you are holding in your hands is a translation of his journal. And it's why I brought you here."

Before Hermione could respond Luna stood up from her chair and left the room without saying goodbye. The young witch frowned and opened the book; it was a translation of the journal with the original latin on one page and English on the other. Hermione started to read the journal from the beginning and found Tullius Tiro to be a rather whimsical fellow. The writing in his journal ranged from descriptions of encounters with his favorite prostitute Drusilla to rather, for the time, creative thoughts about the nature of magic. He described finding an curious ritual in the annals of Alexandria and the many years of preparation to repeat and improve it.

After the disaster, he was driven insane by the results of the experiments, taken in by family and his writings became more and more erratic. He stated he had ' _looked into the eyes of Pluto and saw the end of everything_ '. As time progressed, past present and future started to blend together. Tullius started to spin more and more nonsensical gibberish, interspersed with frighteningly accurate predictions of then future historical facts he certainly could not have known about. He described airplanes, Buyan island and shivers went down her spine when Hermione saw the name 'Volo de Mortis' written out.

Eventually, the formerly curious and cheerful Tullius' mind had degenerated so much that he spent his last days muttering the same two words over and over again, claiming this would be the world's doom or salvation. Apparently, he could see both outcomes as equally likely even though one would exclude the other. He wrote the terms over and over again in the last pages of the journal, but there was a translator's note that the words weren't latin. One word had Greek origins, and the second was an attempt at phonetic representation of a word he could not comprehend.

When she read the translated phrase, she dropped the book to the floor while a feeling of terror washed over her. She had never given much stock to divination, but yet here it was in a two thousand year old journal.

The phrase which had driven Tullius Tiro over the edge of his last remaining sanity during his final days was a name.

'Hermione Granger'


	14. Let It Go

**2nd of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix's bedroom**

Hermione spent the better part of the day thinking about what she had learned, mulling it over, looking at it from all sides. An inordinate amount of pacing through her beautiful new study had been involved.

Though she had been shocked to the core by what she had learned from Tulius Tiro's last journal entry, some further thinking about it made her come to the conclusion that it really wasn't any evidence at all for the existence of Luna's 'source', nor that it was some sort of massively powerful super-being pulling the strings of the wizarding world.

Divinations did exist. Prophecies did exist. Sometimes a wizard or witch in the past could make predictions with starling accuracy, but the interpretations itself were hit and miss. Often enough, the predictions themselves were so vague that they could only be placed after the event had taken place. Tullius might simply have predicted her role in the fall of Voldemort, whom was also referenced in his predictions. And let's not forget that the poor fellow had been driven insane, likely not even from the result of the experiment, but because this jovial, kind man suddenly had to bear the full weight of being the cause for so much death and destruction.

No, as usual, Luna had only seen what she wanted to see and interpreted this 'evidence' accordingly. Confirmation bias at its finest. Honestly, Hermione didn't have much time to think about Luna's insanity.

In truth, she felt sorry for Luna. Her poor friend was so desperate to give meaning to her mother's tragic death that she had constructed an entire fictional narrative surrounding it. So desperate that she felt she had to defect, and even bring _her_ here. No doubt Luna would say that Hermione was in denial or sticking her head in the sand. But honestly, a more pressing concern loomed on the horizon; a very beautiful and dangerous woman wanted to spend the night with her. She cast the journal aside and focused instead on the other book she had brought. The young witch left her study behind and relocated to the bedroom with serious lead in her shoes. She lay on the bed and opened the book.

A red-faced Hermione had just finished the chapter about breast-play and slammed the book shut to watch the clock. It was eleven in the evening and she hadn't seen Bellatrix for hours.

There had been a moment where her feet at gotten so cold that she had wanted to make a break for it. To just go out into the forest, start running and don't stop for anything. Ultimately, that would have been as pointless as it would be dangerous. Of course, she'd caught and brought back, but even then there'd be no running from her feelings.

She was in love with Bellatrix Black. The woman was sharp, intelligent, a foil to her wit and possessed a beauty Hermione was only now beginning to notice.

God, how had she gotten herself into this mess?

Hermione wanted it, though. To even her own shock, she wanted it with a desperation which was equal to her increasing fear as evening turned to night. By the time the light of the moon poured into the darkened bedroom through the windows, illuminating the bed as though it was a spotlight, Hermione's heart pounded in her chest like a jackhammer.

Her breath caught in her throat when the newly repaired double doors leading into the bedroom flew open. Bellatrix, of course, stood in the door opening. Apparently, she had changed her clothes to what looked to be a black evening gown fitting tightly around her figure and Hermione was shocked to see... how _revealing_ it was. A deep slit in the front of her dress revealed much of Bellatrix's breasts and the skin of her abdomen. A second slit to the side of her dress revealed a rather shapely leg.

"Close your mouth, puppy," Bellatrix winked. "You might catch a fly."

Hermione closed her mouth, her teeth causing a resounding click as she did so. The young witch took a slow step back, gulping.

"Why?" Hermione asked softly.

"Why what?' Bellatrix cocked her head sideways.

"Why me?" Hermione asked. "Why a 'lowly' mudblood like me?"

Bellatrix's chuckle caught in her throat. "Aww, are you trying to scare me off? How utterly precious."

She took a step closer, causing Hermione to shudder. Another step. And another. Hermione closed her eyes as she felt two arms wrap around her waist. God, her smell, her warmth.

"If there is anything I've learned running the Walpurgis Union," husked Bellatrix, her mouth a mere inch away from her ear. "It's that mudbloods have a lot to offer."

"Bella..." Hermione whimpered before she felt soft lips on hers. Immediately, all of her resistance, all of her fears melted away like snow in the sun. Slowly, she raised her arms to lay her hands on Bellatrix's hips. The dark witch deepened the kiss, pressing the girl against her.

Hermione yelped when she suddenly felt herself being shoved backwards. She fell onto the soft bed and Bellatrix was immediately upon her, pinning her in place by clasping her wrists and pushing her down. The young young witch was in a perfect vantage point to look right down Bellatrix's ample cleavage... so soft and inviting.

Bellatrix pushed her knee to part Hermione's legs, releasing one her wrists to lay her hand on her cheek. For a moment, Hermione felt Bellatrix's touch burning into her skin. A wry almost predatory grin crossed Bellatrix's features. Frightening enough, this was almost exactly the same position she had been in on the floor of Malfoy Manor over five years ago when she was being tortured.

However, this was torture of an entirely different kind.

"Are... are you going to be... gentle?" Hermione pleaded.

Bellatrix seemed to think that over for a bit. "No," she finally dead-spanned, flashing her another wicked grin. To prove her point, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's hair and yanked her head to one side; not hard enough to be painful, but not gentle enough to be comfortable either. Hermione shuddered when Bellatrix ran the tip of her tongue from the nape of her neck to her earlobe, which she proceeded to nibble on.

"You want someone to show you the depths of passion," Bellatrix whispered in her ear, sending shudders through her entire body. Hermione felt the dark witch's weight shift to lay on top of her, her face inches away from hers. The tips of their noses touched and Hermione lay perfectly still as Bellatrix gently rubbed her nose with her own. "Oh, little girl," Bellatrix smirked as the young witch felt her hot breath on her skin. "I'll awaken desires within you which never dared to think you even possessed."

Before Hermione could stop herself, she let out a lustful moan. God, her loins were on fire. She wanted her. She wanted Bellatrix so much. The young witch wrapped her arms around the dark witch and held onto her, tilting her head in an attempt to capture her lips. Bellatrix let out a triumphant chuckle from the very depths of her throat before she obliged. The dark witch kissed her again... hungrily, full of lust and desire... To think that she had resisted this; Hermione felt every last remaining bit of doubt melt like snow in the sun.

"Door's warded," Bellatrix husked. "Nobody will interrupt us. No more escape for you."

Hermione offered no resistance when the dark witch lifted the jumper over her head, leaving nothing but a white bra. The young witch shuddered when Bellatrix straddled her, and slowly reached her hands behind her back. Slowly but surely, the evening gown slid down, bunching up around her hips while revealing two perfectly round soft breasts to both the light of the moon and Hermione lustful gaze.

Immediately, the logical part of Hermione's brain kicked in. Thinking back to the book, Hermione could only consider one reason why she put her breasts on display like that; Bellatrix would be expecting breast-play, naturally. Thankfully, she remembered a few things she had read. Slowly, she raised both her hands along the sides of Bellatrix's torso, and led them to finally cup her breasts. God, so soft. ' _Okay, Hermione, this isn't so hard, just remember what you read. Massage with your palms and tease her nipples with your thumbs. Oh, god, I can't believe I'm doing this...'_

Meanwhile, Bellatrix let out a sigh and threw her head back, letting her dark curls flow around her shoulders. "My, my, little puppy," husked the dark witch. "Eager, aren't you?"

' _Okay, doing well. Doing well. Stop biting your lip, Hermione, focus on the lovely breasts,'_ she thought while continuing her movements until Bellatrix grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away. "Wh... did I do it wrong?" Hermione asked, letting a bit of hurt creep into her voice.

Bellatrix said nothing, but once again lay her body onto Hermione's. Their lips met, their tongues touched and Hermione clutched onto her with desperation. She felt Bellatrix's arms reach around, clutching her to her. Hands roamed over her body as they lay kissing in the moonlight.

Hermione would never learn how the dark witch had managed to remove her own dress or her trousers in that position, though she suspected magic was involved. All she did see was Bellatrix straddling her again while holding up the white bra triumphantly with a smug ' _look what I found!'_ expression on her face. Instinctively, Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Self-consciousness got the better at her at that moment. There were times when Hermione didn't feel too comfortable with her body; her hair was frizzy, she often thought she was too skinny and had too little in the way of hips. And to have it all exposed in front of an undeniably beautiful woman such as Bellatrix. "I..." she looked away. "I know I'm not very pretty..."

"Hush!" Bellatrix ordered sternly. "Stop being so boring. And put those hands to better use!" ordered Bellatrix while violently yanking her arms to her side, exposing her breasts to the elements. The dark witch lay on top of her again, skin on skin this time. God, so soft. They slowly slid over each other while kissing. Her breath caught in her throat. Impossibly, her nipples hardened even further when their breasts pressed into each other.

Bellatrix didn't seem to care about any self-consciousness about her body, however, and let her kisses roam downward until her lips caught one of her nipples.

Her heart hammered like a million pounding drums, her head was dizzy with excitement when a playful tongue darted around her nipple while a soft hand massaged the other. She never wanted this night to end... and to think she'd been afraid of this.

She became aware that Bellatrix was grinding her hips over her thigh and let out brief sighs as she did so. ' _Of course she thinks of her own pleasure, silly'_ , Hermione chided herself. ' _Come on, you read about this in the book.'_

Not quite believing she was thinking of books at a time like this, Hermione swooned when Bellatrix started leading a trail of kisses across her abdomen, lingering around her bellybutton before leading further down. Oh, god... she's read about... she was going to... The dark witch reached an arm around her thigh and gently parted her legs.

Instant sensory overload.

Hermione let out a cry when the lip of Bellatrix's tongue touched her most sensitive part. Twirling. Teasing. Lashing. Her back arched, her chest heaved and head rolled back and forth while Hermione let out quiet sobs of pleasure as Bellatrix's nails dug into her thigh. God, it felt so good. So very good. She almost lost it when she felt her lover's soft curly hair brush against her inner thighs.

She shivered as Bellatrix continued her torture without mercy. Hermione almost went rigid when she felt a finger slide inside of her. Long, gentle strokes going slightly deeper with every inward motion, crooking inside of her. She thought was going to mad with pleasure. Tongue and fingers acting in unison, the dark witch gladly pleasured her lover. Judging from the small cries, Hermione had a pretty good idea what Bellatrix's other hand was doing.

When she felt the pressure building up inside her belly, Hermione almost cried. ' _No, not so fast. Not already,'_ she pleaded with her own body. Hermione didn't want it to be over already.

Her body didn't listen. Release was relentless and violent, causing her to cry out while her body spasmed. Her hands dug into the mattress, while black spots filled her eyesight. She collapsed in utter exhaustion, panting on her bed while drenched in sweat. Bellatrix was upon her instantly, allowing the young witch to cradle herself against her. A virgin no longer, Hermione lay her head on Bellatrix's shoulder while pressing her body against her.

"There, there, little girl," a chuckle caught in Bellatrix's throat. "I daresay you had as much fun as I had."

Only one thought was on Hermione's mind. "C-could we..." Hermione pleaded. "Could we do it again, please?"

A throaty chuckle sounded through the bedroom. "My, my, my, looks like you've developed a taste for it. Perhaps... OW," she suddenly cried out, "What's this?"

Apparently having lain down onto something, she produced the offending object. It was a book which Hermione was too caught up in post-coital bliss to actually recognize.

"Huh," Bellatrix raised the book to the light to see better. "Merlin's arse, ' _The whole lesbian sex book'?!_ "

Hermione's eyes grew wide with embarrassment as she realized she had left it lying underneath the pillow rather that cleaning it up. She's been practicing where and how to best lay down on the bed with the book in hand and cursed herself for doing so.

"It's just... research," Hermione spoke with a slightly embarrassed tone.

In response the dark witch looked at her. First she smiled. Then she giggled. Then she laughed. Finally, she ended up lying next to her holding her stomach while gales of laughter shook her body.

Meanwhile, a rather irate Hermione was getting rather huffy about it. "It's not funny!" she replied harshly, feeling rather embarrassed while sitting up in bed crossing her arms while trying to look as angry as possible.

"Alright then," grinned the dark witch while grabbing her shoulder. With a yelp, the young witch felt herself being pulled on top of Bellatrix. "Then why don't you start showing me what you've learned, hm?"

Hermione's expression softened when the dark witch stroked her hair and started pulling her down for more kissing.

Bellatrix was right, this was no time for arguing. And the night was still so very young.

* * *

**4th of October 2003 – Yamba, Australia – Wilkans residence**

Harry considering that, for someone working for Intelligence, he was a rather poor investigator. For most of his time in Australia, it been Rollo who'd had been doing most of the thinking and had had the best ideas.

On his suggestion, the two of them posed as Interpol agents. He was able to check with the Dental Board of Australia to see which practicing dentists in Australia had immigrated from the UK in the years 1997 and 1998. It had been Rollo's correct guess that the Grangers would continue to practice their profession regardless of the memory alteration. What they got was a list of twelve families and all he had to do was visit them all to check them off the list.

Right now, he was standing in a completely cleaned out living room of a nice family home in a tree-rich street overlooking the bay in a town named Yamba. It was quiet, yet somewhat touristy area. The house had not been put up for sale, nor were there seemingly any owners, as was the same with the abandoned dental surgery downtown.

The family which lived here had been the Wilkans, emigrated from the UK in 1997 and since the last two months had fallen completely off the face of the Earth. The most interesting was a birth certificate of a little girl named Ophelia Wilkans born in 1999. That made Harry smile somewhat; a little sister for Hermione. If Ophelia was anything like Hermione, he didn't think the world would be ready for that.

Unfortunately, the trail had gone completely cold. He stepped outside to find Rollo looking for him. "Sorry, mate," he shrugged. "Been talking to the neighbors. Absolutely no memories of the family which lived here. Whoever did the memory charms was very thorough. Got the entire street, possibly the entire town."

"Damn," Harry shook his head. "That's Hermione for you. Very precise."

"Nah, mate," said Rollo. "This looks more like a wizarding evacuation to me. Everything gone without any sort of paper-trail, memories of the entire town altered. This is a text-book operation."

"Like I said, Hermione is very thorough," Harry replied. "And she doesn't want to be found. It's just... not like her. If she'd found her family, she would contact me and Ron. She promised me she would."

Rollo shrugged. "Ey, maybe the situation changed, yeah?" he said while the two of them started walking down the street. "This little girl. A sister? That's an extra person to protect. Maybe she wants to be sure her family is completely hidden from the wizarding world before she contacts you."

"Maybe," said Harry, but he didn't believe it. He knew Hermione could take care of herself, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that one of his dearest friends might be in trouble. "But the trail ends here. We have no more leads to follow."

Harry felt utterly and completely defeated at that point. One of his dearests friends was out there alone, on the run with her family. And there was nothing he could do to help them.

"You win some, you lose some, mate," said Rollo. "Come on, let's go find a pub and I'll treat you to a proper Australian beer. Ever tried Emu? Getting drunk off your arse often helps."

The former boy-who-lived found that sounded rather good right about now. Just as Rollo and Harry were about to round about the corner, they came across a rather friendly sun-burnt bearded Muggle dressed in simple clothes softly singing a merry tune. " _Alphabet soup, alphabet soup. We were duped. Man-time is moot..."_

"That's a yank," Rollo turned to Harry. The friendly-looking man turned to them after hearing them. He scrutinized them for a bit.

"You two are not from around here, are you?" he asked.

Harry stopped in his tracks but the man's oddly friendly smile set him at ease.

"Yeah," spoke the American. "You don't have that empty look in your eyes like the other people here have. Wasn't always like this, you know?"

Rollo and Harry exchanged a look. The both of them knew that one of the side-effects of mass memory charms were confusion and forgetfulness.

"Yes," said Harry, hoping to steer the Muggle along a bit. "It's really quite unsettling."

"I know!" replied the friendly man. "I was traveling through Australia to spread the word on Galileo-time, but strange stuff has been happening here, man. There was a family living there. Right in that house! Some really nice people with a cute little girl. And then one day they're just gone and everybody pretends they never existed. But when I tell them the Wilkans used to live here, nobody believes me. They were here, I know they were here. That nice man Jack Wilkans fixed up my teeth for free, even. Here," he opened his mouth and pointed at a particularly well-applied set of fillings. "Those are real! And the Wilkans were real too. Jack even look the time to try to understand the man-time conspiracy going on all around us!"

During the rant, Rollo and Harry looked at each other. "Looks like Hermione missed someone," Harry whispered to him.

"How long ago did the Wilkans disappear?" Rollo ask. "Could you give us a timeframe?"

Apparently happy to find at least two people willing to believe him, the man become practically unstoppable. "About two months ago. It's really shady. This woman showed up and she was just... unnaturally cheerful. I didn't like the look of her, so I ducked into the bushes to observe her real studious like, you know?"

"Rrright," Rollo snorted. "That ain't disturbed at all."

"This woman," asked Harry. "Did she talk to the Wilkans?"

"Scary thing," said the man. "She went in their house. But when she came out, the Wilkans were gone. And all their furniture was too! I went to look in the window, I did, and _everything_ was gone! Hide nor hair."

"How long did this take?" Harry asked.

"Uh, about five minutes, I think," said the man.

"Yep," said Rollo. "That's about how long it takes to clean out the place if you know how."

The man continued without pause. "Then the woman came out and she had this little piece of wood in her hand. She then went from house to house and... did something to them! Look, I think I know what she is."

Both Rollo and Harry tensed; if he was about to say 'witch' they'd have to call in an obliviator to take care of it. Though this kindly man was unlikely to be believed, it was too much of a risk to take. It would also mean they'd lose their only lead left to find Hermione.

"She has to be _catholic time-terrorist!_ " the man nodded. "I've broken the cycle. I am no longer living in a technological generated fantasy. It's about internal purity and arousal of humanity. Look above recorded history. I love you with all my life and every cell of my body is owned by my eyes. And every cell of you, is owned by my eyes. And every cell of earth, is owned by my eyes."

Both Harry and Rollo shared a look. "A catholic..." Rollo started.

"... time-terrorist," Harry blinked.

"Yeah!" said the hobo. "When it comes down to it, we're just mantime objects in earthtime space continuum, man."

Harry had enough and grabbed the man by the lapel. "This girl. What did she look like?"

"Like a girl!"

"Anything more specific?" Harry asked and got an idea. "Think, man. Think hard. Rollo and I fight the Illuminati. This woman is obviously an expy of the New World Order and a Satan worshipper. Nobody disputes that. The sooner we find her the better. The fate of the world might depend on it."

The man frowned and gave Harry a strange look. "You're a bit of a nutter, aren't you?"

Harry decided to give a brief description of Hermione, hoping to trigger his memory. And trigger he did. The man became quite irate at the mention of wavy brown hair. "No, no, no, no, no! Not brown. She wasn't brown. She was blonde!"

"Blonde?" asked Harry. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," said the man. "Positive. She was very, very blonde. And she looked smart."

Harry rubbed his chin, having much to think about. Blonde? That was just so... unexpected. He supposed he treated the man in front of him rather unfairly. He had given them good information and even though he was a bit of a loon, the man seemed to be in a perpetual state of happiness. In fact, the description he had given reminded him of Luna Lovegood; the old Luna Lovegood, the girl she used to be before her defection. Harry considered that Luna and this man would get along fine if they had met.

The merry man went on his way, singing a song about a donkey named Jenny, who was apparently quite a special lady. When the man was out of earshot, the two investigators turned to each other. "So, your Hermione was a blonde?" Rollo asked. "Disguise?"

"I wouldn't put it past her to change her appearance. And she did want to remain hidden. But blonde?" asked Harry, more of himself than of Rollo. "That's just... not her."

"Rather the point of a disguise, mate," said Rollo.

"Maybe," said Harry, this entire series of events not sitting well with him.

"We could requisition some experts, try to undo the memory charms, but considering we'd have to end up charming them again in a short time, that might cause some brain-damage," said Rollo. "And there's no way to tell if that will even give us a clue to finding your girl. I'll see if I can dig up some photographs of the Wilkans and put my contacts in the AFP to work. See if they turn up somewhere in the Muggle world. Other than that, we're done."

Harry nodded grimly. It seemed that he had to go back to the UK empty-handed. Snape would have to learn to live with disappointment. Part of him was quite happy about it; he didn't relish the thought of trying to talk Hermione into returning home.

Another part of him was sick with worry; one of his best friends was out there and he had no idea if she was safe.


	15. Black Velvet

**5th of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix's bedroom**

Hermione stretched as she stirred from her slumber. The morning sun was pouring in through the windows, warming her exposed skin. The velvet sheets partially covered her and felt so wonderful. Next to her, Bellatrix was still sleeping; she looked so peaceful, even if her curly dark hair was sprawled about and frizzy.

The last... three? Was it three days? Wow, amazing. The last three days had been a non-stop rollercoaster ride of sheer pleasure. It certainly hadn't stopped after her first time. The past couple of days and nights, she and Bellatrix had spent together in utter bliss. The dark witch's obsessive nature was obvious, as they had continued to make love again and again. They'd make love in bed, cuddle and chat, make love again, had dinner brought in, made love in the bath, chatted, made love in bed again... and so on.

Hermione liked to think she was making up for lost time. She wasn't embarrassed anymore; the feelings, the sensations they shared were incredible and Hermione only wanted more and more. Thankfully, Bellatrix was only too happy to indulge. Hermione closed her eyes and smiled; the dark witch had even told her that she was a fast learner.

They'd gotten to know each other better as well. Bellatrix had shared stories about her childhood, and there were plenty of adventures she and her sisters had gotten into. Hermione, in turn, told her stories about her life as a Muggle child; to her credit, Bellatrix had listened with interest.

Yesterday, a lavish dinner had been brought in, complete with a dessert of chocolate syrup over icecream with strawberries. Hermione chuckled to herself; that delicious dessert had found an even more delicious alternate use. Such decadence! God, she was going to Hell after she died... and she didn't care.

The chuckle caused the dark witch to groan as she awakened, her hand reaching to her forehead.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted.

"Morning," Bellatrix gruffed while reaching out to Hermione. The young witch quickly found herself in an embrace; her lover's warmth was intoxicating. Gentle hands stroked her hair while soft lips touched hers.

"I think you had a little too much champagne yesterday," Hermione smiled when she saw the state Bellatrix was in.

"Not so loud," Bellatrix groaned. "And you cheated. You counted your drinks."

"How is that cheating?" Hermione giggled while kissing the dark witch on the tip of her nose before laying Bellatrix's head against her chest. Nails raked over her lower back in response.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix whispered. "Being in love so much more fun when the other person loves you back."

Hermione had to smile at that. Being loved back was such a simple thing, yet it was something so unique for Bellatrix. It made her feel sad to think about it.

A pop sounded near the bed and it was revealed to be a house-elf. Hermione had gotten used to this ritual by now; every morning, this tireless elf would bring them messages. They were always papers and reports for Bellatrix to read. While suffering some dire protests from the lover who held her, Hermione twisted to her side after covering up her chest. The elf muttered something in Russian and Hermione had learned that 'soobshcheniya' stood for 'messages'. She took the pile from the elf and put the stack next to her.

Immediately, she felt Bellatrix reach over her. Two hands grabbed the stack of papers and roughly tossed it off the bed. The stack followed a rather nice parabolic trajectory where it landed on an impressive pile of unread papers near the foot-end of the bed. Bellatrix relaxed again, wrapping an arm around Hermione's belly while gently biting down on her shoulder.

Hermione let out a giggle and was about to take revenge by flipping the dark witch to her back to ravish her, when she saw the elf was still standing there, now holding out a single letter apparently meant for her.

"Odin dlya vas," spoke the elf as Hermione took it.

"Bolshoe Spasibo," Hermione nodded, thanking the elf.

Curious, Hermione unfolded the letter to see what it was. Bellatrix, however, would have none of this. "No reading," Bellatrix purred in her ear while sliding a hand across her arm. "Moooooore..."

A chuckle caught in Hermione's throat. "We'll have to come up for air at some point," she said while unfolding the letter. As her eyes roved over the paper, her eyes grew wide. "It's from my parents! They've moved into their new house! Just... just how long have we been shut in this room?"

"Hmmm," Bellatrix purred lazily while a hand slowly slid downwards over Hermione's abdomen. "Stop reading."

A small whimper escape from her mouth when Bellatrix's aim was true. Her breath quickened as she felt Bellatrix's warm body press against her back... soft lips roaming from her shoulder to her necks while the merciless strokes continued. The letter fell from her limp hand onto the bed when she closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. Hm, making up for lost time indeed.

It didn't take long for her to reach climax; in fact, it was rather frightening how quickly Bellatrix had figured out ways to send her over the edge. Her back arched, her body shuddered and a silent scream escaped from her mouth. Hermione closed her eyes and panted in an attempt to recover as all strength had left her body.

"Hm, that was fast," Bellatrix purred while reaching over her. "So, what's this letter about then?"

Still experiencing the aftermath of orgasmic bliss, Hermione was in no state to protest. Hermione lay her head on her pillow and stretched, enjoying the moment a bit longer. Hm, how odd; she expected more kisses or caresses by now. God knows, they'd shared plenty of that the past couple of days. When she shifted around in bed to face Bellatrix, she was started to see the dark witch sitting in bed focused completely on the letter, her face twisted in rage.

"Bella?" Hermione asked.

"They..." her lover hissed. "They want you to visit."

"Yes?" Hermione frowned.

Bellatrix head snapped to her. "After all... after... you're still trying to escape! You've enlisted your own family to help you!"

"What?!" Hermione blinked. "How on Earth did you leap to that conclusion?!"

"Oh, it's so clear to me now," Bellatrix hissed at her. "It's not going to happen!"

Hermione gasped when it started to dawn on her what exactly her dark witch was implying and shot upright. "You're... you're going to keep my from my own family?! My parents? My sister? I haven't seen them for five years! I never knew Ophelia existed! I _am_ going to visit my parents. I want my family to be a part of my life again."

Hermione slipped out of bed and made a grab for the nearest bathrobe. A hand lashed out and grabbed her by the wrist. "Fine!" Bellatrix hissed. "But _only_ if you make the unbre..."

Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. Hermione jerked herself free from Bellatrix's iron grip. "Unbreakable nothing!" Hermione shouted back. "You're going to have to trust me. Any relationship between us isn't going to work without trust! If I _promise_ to return to the palace, that should be enough for you if you really care about me like you say you do! God, you're insufferable!"

Any further accusations caught in her throat when she saw Bellatrix's expression. She had stricken look which a child would have standing over a vase they had just broken while playing. Bellatrix was... afraid. Afraid she had broken something precious. At that moment, sitting naked on her bed with that look on her face... she just looked so vulnerable. It was the last emotion Hermione would expect the dark witch to show. Hermione sighed and sat on the bed next to her.

"I promise I won't leave you," Hermione replied softly. "I've never hidden from you that I miss my friends and that being here makes me feel like a traitor. But you've given me back my family, you've... god, I still can't make sense of all these feelings. But I know I want more of it."

Bellatrix lay her head on Hermione's shoulder. Her dark curls were surprisingly soft. "I'll order a permanent floo set up between your study and your parents' house. You can come and go as you please."

It wasn't a spoken apology. Such things were simply not in Bellatrix's nature. But this action was apology enough for Hermione. "I understand," said Hermione. "I don't want to be alone anymore either."

The dark witch turned to look at her. With a stony face, she only gave the briefest of nods.

"I... I want to be more than just your plaything," said Hermione in a careful yet resolute way. She was startled when a laughing Bellatrix draped herself over her lap, looking up into her eyes while stretching playfully.

"Oh, little puppy," Bellatrix grinned. "You were already my plaything. Trust me, I'm just as interested as you are to see where this is going. I want us to hold each other, be close to each other. Comfort each other."

Almost her exact words when describing her unrequited love for Voldemort, Hermione remembered. "But," Bellatrix replied with a throaty chuckle while twisting around and wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist. "We can certainly have some fun along the road of discovery, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh?" Hermione chuckled when Bellatrix laid her on the bed. "I do believe I require a demonstration."

"Vixen," Bellatrix hissed, and proceeded to give her a supremely convincing demonstration.

* * *

**5th of October 2003 – Turku, Finland – Granger Residence**

With a poof, Hermione emerged from the fireplace in a very pleasant and brightly lit living room due to the large windows leading to a balcony which had a lovely view of the Finnish city of Turku. Hermione. The city looked beautiful and Hermione couldn't wait to explore it proper.

Of course, she'd been shown pictures of the house, but it was even nicer in real life. The house had two stories, being partially built against a hill meant the entrance was upstairs, as was the living room and the garden. The bedrooms were downstairs, as was the garage and a second entrance leading into the street in front of the house.

She could already see it was sizable, well-furnished and it would be a wonderful place for her family to live.

"Hermione!" sounded from the open kitchen attached to the living room. "So wonderful to see you."

"Dad," Hermione smiled and hugged her father. "This house looks beautiful."

"It's a bit of alright, isn't it?" grinned her father. "You should see the practice! Your mum's there right now, inspecting the surgery. Everything's top of the line. I only had to write down a list of the things we wanted to have and those nice Walpurgis people took care of the rest."

' _Paid for with stolen Swiss gold'_ , Hermione thought, but honestly she didn't really mind; that money was better spent on her family than lying about in some vault.

"So," said her father while he poured the both of them a drink of fizzy soda. "Drink up, it's Pommac. Local flavor. We don't have this in the UK."

"Exotic," smiled Hermione while taking a sip. Really, she was happy that her father was so enthusiastic. This is the second time that her family had been displaced and she hoped to god that they could live here, settle and be happy for a long time. It helped her sensibilities tremendously that her parents weren't angry with her. In fact, her dad's enthusiasm did her well.

"Also," said Jack. "I found a nice webshop which imports all manner of English foods for that proper taste of home. Got this in today's shipment."

When her father produced the can, Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Iron Bru!" Hermione exclaimed as she regarded the favorite soft drink from her youth.

"It's made in Scotland from Girders," added Jack, repeating the familiar slogan with an atrocious Scottish accent. "Ophelia really likes it too. Just don't open the can just yet, puppet. Finish your first drink first."

"Right," Hermione nodded and put the Pommac to her lips.

"Now, tell me about this lucky lady whose heart you've set aflame," Jack asked.

Immediately, all blood rushed to her cheeks. "Uhm, mum told you?"

He nodded.

"You... don't mind that I'm... with a woman?" Hermione asked carefully.

Jack frowned while pouring himself a new glass of Pommac. "Why would I mind?"

The answer gave Hermione so much relief. Honestly, she had already known the answer before she asked, but hearing him say the words gave her so much peace of mind.

"So, what's her name? When do we get to meet her?"

Ah, yes. The moment of truth. "It's, uhm, Bellatrix Black."

"The lady who took you captive?"

"The same."

"Well," chuckled Jack Granger. "That's _one_ way to procure your freedom."

Hermione blushed slightly at the implication. "I'm far from free, dad," said Hermione.

Her father grumbled briefly. "That's the only thing about your relationship that doesn't sit well with me, puppet," said Jack Granger. "All jokes aside, you are still her prisoner. She'd better treat you well."

"Better than expected," said Hermione. "As for my freedom, well, she's given me mandate to travel between here and the palace whenever I wish. But I won't be allowed to leave Turku. That's more freedom than I've had the past couple of months."

The answer didn't fully satisfy her father, that much Hermione could tell. However, he put a brave face on.

"Still, my little girl is seeing a world leader," said Jack. "That's bragging material right there. Oh, do thank her for fielding the bill next time you see her, and tell her there's an open invitation for her to come over for dinner."

"I will, dad," said Hermione, trying to wrap her mind around the concept of Bellatrix Black sitting down at this very dinner table to break bread with her very Muggle parents. In fact, she preferred this never to happen at all; despite being her lover, the dark witch was still unpredictable. Eager for a change of subject, she pointed to a book lying on the kitchen counter. "What's that, dad?"

"Oh, I've been practicing," said her father and handed her the book. Hermione looked it over, finding it to be 'Finnish for Dummies'. "Hei. Kuinka voitte? Hyvää kiitos, entä teille? Nimeni on Jack Granger. Hauska tavata."

Hermione nodded. "Pretty good dad... I think, at least."

Her father shrugged. "Yeah, it's probably a good thing the Finns are so good at speaking English," he said. "I'm expecting Ophelia to pick it up a lot quicker. She's already made friends with the boy living next door. Oh, speak of the devil..."

The sound of light footsteps on the wooden staircase announced the presence of her excited little sister. Ophelia was dressed in jeans and a pink shirt, with her long brown hair tied back in a tail. The moment she saw Hermione, her face lit up radiantly. "Hermione, Hermione!" she yelled and ran towards her.

"Ophelia, no running in the house," her dad gave a friendly admonishing which Ophelia promptly ignored. The little girl grabbed Hermione's sleeve and started pulling and pulling.

"Come on, Hermione," giggled Ophelia. "I want to show you my room!"

Jack Granger laughed heartily and clapped Hermione on the shoulder. "Come on, good excuse to give you the grand tour."

Hermione was practically dragged down the stairs and into a room near the secondary entrance. The room was quite large and painfully pink. A lovely bed stood near two windows giving view of the street. A toychest stood at the foot of the bed, of which the lid was covered with stuffed animals. A desk with drawing supplies and a computer stood opposite to the bed, along with several book cases. "So cool, huh?" Ophelia giggled. "Was your room this cool when you were a kid?"

"I don't remember my room being this pink," said Hermione.

"Trust me," chuckled her father. "It was."

After Ophelia proudly showed off her room, her father continued the tour. The master bedroom was in the back of the house, and because that was the side built into the hill, there were only two narrow windows high up into the wall. Considering her mum had trouble sleeping when the morning light came in through the windows, this was a good choice.

"And here is the bathroom," said her father. "Complete with an electric sauna. You should really give it a try, Hermione. It's fantastic."

"Sounds good," nodded Hermione as her father led her to another room. It was another bedroom, adorned with bookcases and a cozy looking double-bed underneath another window with a view of the street. Thankfully, there was a lack of anything pink.

"Is this a guestroom?" Hermione asked.

"No," said her father. "This is _your_ room."

"Dad?"

"Hermione," said her father. "We want to have a place for you in our house. It doesn't matter that you are an adult now, or that you live at a big palace. We just want you to know that there's always a place for you to come home to, no matter what."

The young witch hadn't been expecting that. In fact, she was so overcome with emotion that tears started to run over her cheeks while she hugged her father.

"There, there," said Jack.

"I'm just so glad to have you back," Hermione sniffed, while Ophelia came running out of her room to see what all the commotion was about. Not wanted to be left out, the little girl demanded to be part of this family hug.

"Come on," said her father. "Let's go pick up mum at the practice and have lunch together as a family. There's some really nice places to have lunch at the Turku Market Square."

"Lets," Hermione smiled warmly, as her father started to lead the both of them to the garage. Once they got there, Hermione spent some time fastening a squirming Ophelia into a children's car seat, while her father left to check the mail quickly.

"Oh, Hermione," said Jack Granger after she'd closed the car door. He approached her with a newspaper in hand. "Apparently, the house came with a newspaper subscription. An owl comes by every morning and drops one of these things off. Shame I can't read it, though."

Hermione took a look and instantly recognized it at the Walpurgis Union's only official newspaper, this particular version being in Finnish. Obviously it being used as an outlet to spread propaganda, but there was a fair balance between that and actual news coverage. "That's The Dark Lady's Grace. It's mostly wizarding news, but you can read it too."

"Not likely," laughed her father. "Finnish, remember?"

"Oh, that's easily helped," said Hermione and held the newspaper in front of her. "English!"

After issuing the command, the ink forming the letters started to run over the paper and slowly reshaped themselves around the photographs. The ink blotted into spots and eventually formed words again, English this time.

"Oh, that's handy," said Jack Granger. "Magical babelfish."

"There might be some grammatical errors," said Hermione, but then spotted the headline. At first she thought she had read it incorrectly. So she read it again. Then her eyes roved over the article. "W-what is this? This can't be right."

By now, her father had relocated to the driver's seat. "Hermione? Are you coming."

"I..." Hermione said, feeling the blood drain from her face. "I... Yes, I... Yes..."

The trip to the city center was spent mostly in silence.

* * *

**5th of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan Palace, Bellatrix's private study**

Legislature. Oh, how she hated legislature, as she did all the boring paperwork part of rulership.

No doubt Rookwood would give her a stern lecture on dereliction of governmental duties if she'd skip out on reviewing and signing the proposals which now lay on her desk. Spending so much time in bed with Hermione had garnered quite a backlog of paperwork she hadn't gotten around to.

Still, Bellatrix supposed she had nothing better to do as Hermione had still not returned from visiting her parents. She'd briefly considered giving her young lover a time-limit, but knew it wouldn't be appreciated.

The moment she caught a shadow darting from the corner of her eye near the door, the dark witch drew her wand with lightning speed and raised herself from her chair. Apparently not aware of the fact that she nearly got herself blasted, a familiar girl popped her head into the room.

"Hi, Bella!" greeted a cheerful Ophelia.

"Oh," Bellatrix snorted at her own foolishness when she stowed her wand back in its holster and calmly sank back into her chair. "A tiny mudblood appears."

"I went through the fireplace when no one was looking!" Ophelia proclaimed proudly.

After rolling her eyes, the dark witch shot the girl a smile. "Remind me to commend your progenitors on their superb parenting skills."

The little girl with the messy hair strode into the room and stood at the side of her desk. "Hermione said you were nice to her. You took away her scar and now you're friends."

"I'd say more than just friends, little witchling," Bellatrix replied.

The girl scrunched her face up as she bit her lip. "Hermione told me you two are kissing now. It sounds a bit weird, but okay."

"Knowing your sister, she tried to explain it to you in an overly complicated and embarrassing way," Bellatrix smirked. "Tell me, how red were her cheeks when she told you about us?"

"About a red as Clifford the dog," nodded Ophelia. "She talked really fast too and used big words."

"Of course she did," Bellatrix said, ruffling the girl's already ruffled brown hair. "No wonder you fled through the fireplace."

Bellatrix was surprised when the girl pushed towards her and, without waiting for permission, hopped right onto Bellatrix's lap and lay her arms on the big desk.

The dark witch's first instinct was to throw her across the room. But she had to admit to herself she had gotten to be rather fond of the tiny witchling. "Hermione says you're kind of like a big sister for me too now," the girl smiled.

Before Bellatrix could stop herself, that statement caused a smile to tug on the corners of her mouth. Bellatrix put her hands on her small shoulders and decided to play along for now. "So, you're now the queen of all you can see around you. What would your first order be, your majesty?" Bellatrix said.

Without missing a beat, little Ophelia imperiously raised her chin and waved a hand in front of her. "Off with his head!"

Bellatrix let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, I like your style," replied the dark witch.

"Teach me magic!" was Ophelia's next command. "I want to do magic. Can I? I am a witch, aren't I? Witches do magic."

Bellatrix remained silent for a bit before she drew her wand and handed it to the eager little girl. "I know just the thing. See that quill on the blotter? Try moving it."

When Ophelia held her curved wand in both hands as if it was a fishing pole, Bellatrix already knew it was a lost cause. Bellatrix could feel the girl's magic swirl within her, yearning for release, but Ophelia was simply too young and had spent too much of her early years around non-magicals. Honestly, she pitied the girl somewhat; magic was her nature and yet she had grown up without even knowing the power which resided within her. Also, it probably didn't help that her wand was stubborn, unyielding and certainly didn't like it when others tried to wield it.

"I taught my sisters their first spells," said Bellatrix. "They were about your age."

"Really? Where are your sisters now? Can I meet them?" Ophelia asked. An innocent question, for sure, but one which stung.

"We don't... speak. Not anymore."

"That's dumb!" Ophelia proclaimed.

"Tell me about it," Bellatrix let out a sigh. "Now focus on the quill. Point the tip of the wand at it and will it to move."

"I'm trying," Ophelia protested, and Bellatrix found that the girl was looking rather cute biting her lip. The dark witch could feel the magic within the girl stirring, but it was too unfocused as the girl did not even have any form of basic training. Still, she didn't want to disappoint the girl. By holding her by the shoulders, Bellatrix subtly forced the magic in the girl's body to bend to her will, just enough to give Ophelia a tiny sliver of control. With a slight jerk, the quill shifted sideways, much to Ophelia's joy.

"It moved!" the witchling raved. "Did you see it?! It moved!"

"That it did," said Bellatrix. The next fifteen minutes were spent performing minor cantrips, mostly through Bellatrix's will. No doubt the girl would be disappointed when her magic would stop working the moment she went home, but the dark witch made it a point to discuss arranging some proper tutelage for the girl with Hermione; Ophelia should be able to properly experience her heritage, after all.

In fact, Hermione did show up in the room soon enough. Her young lover emerged from the fireplace and the moment she saw Ophelia, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "There you are!" Hermione spoke with an admonishing tone. Even so, Ophelia ran to her to be swiftly picked up. "Really, you shouldn't run off like that."

Bellatrix felt honestly relieved to see Hermione again. Though she realized she'd have to trust her, there was a part of her which feared that Hermione would seize the opportunity to escape, even after what they had shared. The dark witch let out a sigh of relief and enjoyed the sight of Hermione fussing over her little sister.

"I did magic with Bellatrix!" Ophelia raved, ignoring any tongue-lashings. "It was really great. I made a feather move and closed a door and opened a window and made a pen float!"

"Oh?" Hermione shot a look and a warm smile at Bella. "Sounds like you two had a lot of fun."

"Bella says I am so good that I can be a battle-witch when I grow up and fight in her army," Ophelia raved.

The moment the tiny witchling had spoken those words, Bellatrix could see Hermione's entire demeanor change instantly. Her body went rigid, the blood drained from her face. Gone was her earlier warm smile and she shot her a look so foul it could curdle milk. For her part, Ophelia was quite unaware of this shift.

"That's... nice, Ophelia," Hermione spoke with intense coldness on her voice. "Now… run along… back to Finland with you."

As soon as Ophelia had left through the floo, she turned to her with the expected look of unbridgled fury. "My little sister…" she hissed as her chest heaved. "is _NOT_ going to be a battle-witch. She's not going to fight and die for any cause! Not yours, not Snape's, not _ANYONE_ 's!"

"Oh, relax," Bellatrix scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I was..."

Hermione, however, was utterly seething. "Let me make myself abundantly clear!" Hermione hissed as she jabbed a finger in Bellatrix' chest repeatedly. "I will not let you! I will fight you every step of the way if you even think... You will not... _YOU WILL NOT!"_

It was then that Bellatrix had had enough. Apparently, her Hermione had forgotten whom she was speaking to. Narrowing her eyes menacingly, she grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed tightly while pushing her against the wall. "You!" Bellatrix shrieked. " _You_ do not order _me_ around!"

Hermione struggled against her grab, but Bellatrix was unrelenting as she felt her rage mounting. The only thing what calmed her was the familiar flash of fear which briefly crossed Hermione's gentle brown eyes. Almost immediately, Bellatrix let her go, took a step back and closed her eyes to will her anger to dissipate. It didn't go as quickly as she wished it to, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Hermione once again staring at her with fury.

"RELAX!" Bellatrix hissed. "I merely told that to the girl to placate her. I told her what she wanted to hear! Do you honestly believe I'm going to draft her into my army? SHE IS FOUR!"

The young witch relaxed somewhat and had apparently realized what she had done. Still trembling, she allowed the dark witch to embrace her. Hermione lay her head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I... I was..."

"... being an overprotective elder sister," Bellatrix finished, surprising herself with being so calm so quickly after her burst of anger. "Trust me, I quite understand."

"I've only known Ophelia for a couple of weeks, but… I love her so much, Bella," Hermione replied. "I'd do anything to keep her out of harm's way."

There was a moment of silence between them and to Bellatrix it seemed as if Hermione was distracted, as if there was something on her mind. Not being one to be kept in the dark, Bellatrix crossed her arms. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips, obviously torn about something. "I was... upset. It's not just about Ophelia. I... I just can't believe what the Alliance is doing."

Bellatrix frowned. "What?"

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration, looking far too cute for someone who was angry. "Taking Muggle-born children away from their parents, of course!"

Hermione reached to her back-pocket and produced a newspaper, which she held up for her to read. The headline explained quite well why her young girlfriend was so upset.

"Please," Hermione whispered. "Tell me the truth. Is this propaganda? Please, just tell me if this is propaganda!"

Bellatrix could only shake her head in response. "It's true," replied Bellatrix. "There is a public statement about it for me to sign somewhere in that pile of papers on my desk."

A shudder went through Hermione's entire body, her jaw clenched and she clenched her eyes shut for a moment. When she opened her eyes, Bellatrix could see that her girl was a ball of barely contained fury. "I don't believe this. I. Do. Not. Believe. This! Seven years! Seven years we've risked our lives to keep Voldemort out the door! Things were getting better for Muggle-borns and now… God! To think that Muggle-borns are better off under the rule of an ex-Deatheater than under the so-called free democratically elected government!"

Hermione started pacing slightly as she was obviously trying to work through this. The dark witch decided to let her for now; she felt it important for Hermione to see Snivellus for who is truly was.

"I was... planning to... To think that... if I had found my parents and had taken them back to Alliance territory, they'd be tearing my family apart right now!"

Bellatrix smirked. "And instead, they now have a proper home and are protected by the Union's finest and most loyal. Those alliance wankers are the same people who call _me_ a dictator, for Merlin's sake."

Hermione's head snapped towards her. "But you _are_ a dictator!" she protested.

The dark witch raised her chin rather imperiously. "Oh, pish-posh! I am the great and benevolent Dark Lady of the Walpurgis Union! There is a difference."

The young witch stared at her for a moment, and the started to laugh in spite of herself. "You're insufferable."

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "It doesn't change the fact that your family is safe with us, my little Hermione. Now, aren't you happy that I had you kidnapped?"

"I honestly don't know how to respond to that."

Bellatrix nodded as she held onto her young lover. She quite understood. Still, she felt the mood needed to be changed. "So," stated the dark witch. "We've already had two fights in one day. You should check your guidebook. I'm quite certain that this requires some romantic time spent together. I've heard that the dragon has returned from his hunting trip to the mainland. We will spend some time watching him fly and then we will go out to dinner."

"Romantic dragon-watching for two?!" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious!"

Bellatrix grinned wickedly, giving Hermione her answer.

"And, of course, she _is_ serious."

"You saying no will condemn me to reading all these horrible legal documents," Bellatrix replied. "I'm sure you will agree that that is a fate worse than death."

"Augustus will blame _me_ if you don't sign those papers."

"Do I look like I care?"

Still grinning, Bellatrix held out an outstretched hand. The smile on Hermione's face was quite gratifying. It was a sign that, despite a serious faux-pas earlier today, she was definitely getting better at maintaining a proper romantic relationship. Not that Bellatrix was surprised.

She excelled at everything, after all.

* * *

**7th of October 2003 – Devon, England – The Burrow**

Harry stood outside of the Burrow, having recently returned from Australia. He always did love coming here; The Burrow had always been his home away from Hogwarts as far as he considered. Although, he did spend some time with Ginny first when coming back from down under first. Priorities, naturally.

The first thing which happened to Harry was to receive a rib-crushing hug from Molly. The second thing which happened was that he was being stuffed full of food at the kitchen. Feeling as if his stomach was about to burst open with every step, he stumbled up the stairs groaning as he did.

He found Ron sitting on the bed of his old room at the top of the Burrow. The old room was much the same as he had remembered it; Chudley Cannons merchandise everywhere, still cramped as always and possessing only one tiny window.

"Hey, Ron," Harry greeted.

"Hello, mate," Ron greeted numbly as he sat up on the bed. Harry pulled up a chair and sat down next to him.

"You know," said Harry. "You could pick one of the bigger rooms."

"Nah," Ron shrugged. "Funny, really. I always complained about this room. It's cramped, leaky and the ghoul upstairs scurries around all the time. But... it's home. Does that make sense at all?"

"Yeah, I think it does," said Harry as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair while the contents of his overstuffed stomach were churning.

Though Ron had seem mostly down in the dumps, a cheeky grin plastered across his features. "Oi, Harry. If you feel the need to vomit, please aim for the open window first... and hope mum isn't out in the yard below when you do."

"Ah, no!" Harry cringed at the heinous mental image. The two friends laughed heartily for a moment. "So, Ron," Harry finally spoke when the laughter died down. "Your mum tells me you quit the auror corps."

"Yep," said Ron. "I talked to George. I'm going help him out with the joke shop for the time being. Merlin knows we could all use a bit more laughs right about now."

"Ron," said Harry. "You haven't been the same since Denmark."

"Noticed that, have you?" Ron sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to bang against the wall of his room with a slight thud. "It used to be so simple, Harry. We had us over here and You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters over there. Good over here. Evil over there. Good did good things. Evil did evil things."

Ron let out a sigh. "Those kids in Copenhagen, the column falling on top of them. I can't get it out of my head. I see it every time I close my eyes, every time I try to sleep at night. Those kids weren't evil. They were defending their home from invaders. Merlin's nutsack, Harry, we would have done the same thing."

Harry sat in silence. He had the feeling he really needed to get it off his chest. "I've been to plenty fronts, Harry, but... this was different. We told ourselves we went there to liberate Denmark from the wicked clutches of Wallie occupiers. We thought we'd be hailed as brave liberators. But there were no occupiers there, Harry. We took their home from them. We were the bad guys and we were treated as such. The day I left, a six year old girl threw a rock at my head. It wasn't really hard because, well, she was six, but she screamed at me that Bellatrix was coming to save them. Save them. Huh."

"Is that why you quit?" Harry asked. "You mentioned wanting a transfer to domestic affairs."

"No," said Ron while reaching over to grab what looked to be the copy of the Daily Prophet. "I quit because of _this_ bullshit."

He threw the paper at Harry, and as soon as he saw the headline, he knew why. "Tell me about it. It's not a popular measure in Australia. And they're right," he said, talking about the new law to place Muggle-born children with wizarding families. "It's madness."

"It's bloody mental!" Ron snarled, slamming his fists down on the mattress for good measure. "I can't believe so many people are just going along with it."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry. "I heard two young girls have been placed with the Malfoys."

"Yeah, no doubt the high and mighty Lucius Malfoy wants to show off to the Ministry that he's seen the errors of his ways," Ron spat. "Poor girls."

"Almost all the neutrals are condemning this," said Harry.

"Hah, bugger me, even the Wallies made a statement condemning this," Ron snorted. "Signed by Bellatrix Black herself. I never actually thought I'd ever agree with Bellatrix fucking Black. What kind of buggered-up world are we living in, Harry?"

Ron took a long hard look at Harry. "I quit because I'd be one of the people who'd actually have to enforce this mental law. If I'd be working for domestic affairs, they'd have _me_ taking kids away from their families. No way in hell I'm going to be involved with any of that. No way in hell!"

Harry understood quite well since the Weasleys were always so big on family. To steal someone away from that... He patted his friend on the shoulder, a gesture which was appreciated. "I didn't find Hermone in Australia. I found where her family had lived, but the place was cleaned out. No sign of them whatsoever. Apparently, the Grangers had another daughter when living in Australia even. I've tried to follow the paper trail to see if her former school had some records of where the family left to. No dice. I knew it was a long shot."

"Hermione," Ron smiled, apparently thinking pleasant thoughts about their friend. "Can't blame her for wanting to get out of the nuthouse."

Harry shook his head. "I'm just worried. She promised she'd contact us when she'd find her parents. It's not like her to come back on a promise, especially one like that."

That made Ron chuckle. Almost mockingly, in fact.

"What's so funny?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron lolled his head in laughter. "And here I thought you were smart! Hermione found out she has a sister. A _Muggle-born_ sister. There's your reason right there," he said, emphasizing his point by tapping the newspaper in Harry's hand with his index finger. "Hermione's not going to take any risks. I'm sure we'll hear from her again, but not until she's absolutely certain that her family is as safe as can be."

"I hope you're right," laughed Harry. "In the meantime, I have some bad news to tell to Snape. I won't be bringing his star diplomat home for him."

"Oh, my heart bleeds for his misfortune," Ron clutched his heart dramatically while rolling around on the bed. "Come on, Harry, let's go to the local pub and grab a pint. There's a quidditch patch nearby and there's always kids playing. Let's go out and enjoy ourselves for a bit, hm?"

"You read my mind," said Harry.

* * *

**8th of October 2003 – Norwich, United Kingdom – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

"So, you didn't find her," Snape stated while he sat behind his desk. Potter sat opposite to him for a personal debriefing. Of course, he had already read his report. Yes, he was quite disappointed, but also impressed at miss Granger's resourcefulness. It was quite obvious that she didn't want to be found.

"I gave it my best, professor," said Potter. That Snape believed; he knew the boy was worried about his friend and wanted to bring her back to a place of safety.

"Professor," Snape shook his head. "I haven't been a professor for five years, Potter. Sentimentality?"

"Perhaps I can't see you as anything else," replied Potter. "In any event, Rollo has some connections with the Muggle Interpol. They might be able to find a trace of Hermione's parents if they're hiding in the Muggle world."

Snape let out a disdainful sigh. "Muggles... excuse me for not holding my breath."

"If you don't have a new assignment for me, I would like to spend some time with my girlfriend."

"Permission granted," said Snape. "I currently have nothing on the table which requires an operative of... your talents. Perhaps you will be more successful in the future."

This was the point where Potter usually got up and left in a huff after having endured a subtle tongue-lashing. However, he was still here. Obviously, there was something on the boy's mind. "Considering you are still sitting in that chair, may I assume that you have something else you wish to discuss?"

Potter seemed hesitant for a moment. Slowly, he pulled the rolled up newspaper he had in his pocket and laid it out on his desk. Ah, of course. The new Muggle-born placement law. "Did you engineer this?"

Snape leaned forward, looking the boy in the eye. "No," he drawled. "No, I did not. That particular law is the brain-child of a group of loyalist politicians of several Alliance nations. I _do,_ however, give it my utmost support."

He could tell by the way Potter pursed his lips and flared his nostrils that he was angry about it. "Sir, how can you sit there and tell me with a straight face that you agree with taking children from their families? Also, what's this about an automatic ten year sentence for Muggle-baiting? Ten years in Azkaban for a practical joke?"

"Mister Potter," Snape sat up straighter and folded his hands. "We live in exceedingly dangerous times. With Bellatrix and her cohorts flaunting magic about in front of Muggles like mad drunks at a party, we must take steps to protect our world. As long as the Walpurgis Union's blatant violations of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy continue, we will be forced to react accordingly. Don't blame us for the actions of others."

And that had been his tactic all along. Of course he had counted on public outrage to this ultimately necessary regulation, but though skillful manipulations and propaganda measures, he was able to lay the blame at the feet of the Walpurgis Union's actions on their own soil. As long as the people of the Alliance aimed their anger at the enemy, there was no problem.

"To be honest," started Snape. "It's an important first step in a larger plan to limit our exposure to the Muggle world. Over the next few years, we will withdraw further and further from the Muggle world until we eventually cut all ties. There's a plan in the making which will involve massive memory alterations as the end-game. We must take measures to protect wizardkind from the Union's excesses."

"You can't be serious," Potter shook his head.

"My problem of the week is called 'Tony Blair'. This insipid Muggle has been informed that the Walpurgis Union is helping the Russian president dealing with his political rivals through the use of magic. What was his name again?"

"Vladimir Putin?" Potter frowned.

"That's the one," Snape snapped his fingers. "Now this Tony Blair apparently would like us to make some politically sensitive materials disappear. Can't you see that a dangerous situation is developing?"

"Sir," Potter shook his head. "You can't go completely into hiding while wizards on the other side of the world go completely into the open. It doesn't make sense."

"The Walpurgis Union _will_ implode," Snape replied. "Bellatrix thinks she can control the Muggles. She is a fool. We need to disappear completely so we will be protected from the fallout. Nobody in the Muggle world can ever know we were ever more than a fairytale! Bringing all magical children into our world in a necessary first step."

He could tell from Potter's body language that he was not buying it, proving himself smarter than the average Alliance citizen at least. No matter. Potter didn't have to agree, as long as he just did was he was told. "Besides, it's not so bad. The parents will not even remember having had a child and most children will be too young to remember they were ever taken. Wizards belong with their own kind, mister Potter," he spoke resolutely. "Perhaps you and your young fiancee might consider opening your home to one of our new Muggle-born charges?"

Harry Potter smirked briefly. "At least, this time, not everybody's buying it. I've just come from Australia. Before I left, they were threatening to leave the Alliance over this law."

"They will come around," drawled Snape, sounding sure of himself. "I must say the Australian Minister of Magic used some very... colorful language, as well as a rather crude suggestion as to where I can 'stick' this law. But time will still that emotion."

Potter laughed briefly. "I'm not so sure about that, professor. From what I've seen of Australian wizards the past month, they're stubborn as all hell."

Snape didn't immediately respond, but he had to admit that the boy was right; the situation was far more precarious than he had been letting on. The Muggle-born Placement Law could not garner popular support and because of Australia's distance from the UK, it would be much harder to force them to comply. New Zealand was Walpurgis territory and if Australia were to leave the Alliance to become a neutral or, Merlin forbid, join the Union, it could destabilize the entire region. It would take time and guile to convince the Australians of the necessity of this law, but he already had a plan in mind.

"You've read the report," said Potter. "You know that Hermione has a little sister. A _Muggle-born_ sister. If she were to return to the UK with her family, what would happen? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"The Muggle-born Placement Law would apply," Snape replied. "The girl would be taken from her parents, the parents obliviated and the girl would be placed with a known wizarding family. Since miss Granger is of age, the law allows her sister to be placed under her care."

"But not her parents?" Harry asked.

"No," said Snape.

"And that is why you will never see Hermione Granger again," Harry snorted. "I guarantee it."

Snape remained silent for a moment. "We'll see. Speaking hypothetically, _of course_ ," said Snape. "Anything else, mister Potter?"

"Nothing," said Potter with an irate tone. In a way, he was still the obstinate little boy misbehaving in his classroom trying to get a rise out of him.

"Then leave," said Snape. "I am far too busy to waste any more time on you."

Potter's reaction was rather predictable; running off in a huff as he usually did when he was angry. He definitely inherited his short-tempered nature from his scoundrel of a father. Truth be told, he didn't have any current missions that would keep Potter away from the front. He had to play it carefully; too many boring domestic assignments and Potter might go off on his own. There a was tight rope to be walked between too safe and too dangerous.

The search for Hermione Granger was far from over. He'd have his agents in the field keep an eye out for any clues. Once a lead had been found, Potter would be put on the case once more. A pity, really. He could have used miss Granger during this developing crisis. Miss Granger had a talent for smoothing things over and her replacements had produced less than satisfying results.

In the meantime, he had plenty of reports to sift through. Most of the reports on his desk came from Africa; troop movements, progress and casualty reports for the assault on Agartha in Kenya. Agartha was an ancient wizarding city state and wresting it from Bellatrix's grasp would not only be a massive boost for morale, but would give them control over the entirety of the Lake Victoria region.

So far, his chosen tactic was working; he had been transferring only small units from every front and secretly transported them to the new battle lines drawn at the edge of the city. His spies reported that the Wallies were confused over just where the Alliance suddenly got so many new troops from, but his earlier tactics had made the Wallies wary about drawing reinforcements from other fronts to help defend Agartha for fear of the Alliance pressing down on another front somewhere.

Oh, the Wallies stationed there fought like lions, he had to give them that. But current projections were that Agartha would fall within a fortnight. And once they had Agartha, the rest of Kenya would be sure to follow.

Another report caught his interest. One of his agents in St. Petersburg reported that Bellatrix had shown up in public and made quite a scene in a local cafe. Now, Bellatrix quite often had her moments of flamboyance, but what caught his eye specifically was that the agent reported that she had shared a romantic afternoon with an unknown young lady. Unfortunately, the identity of the lady in question could not be confirmed as Bellatrix had whisked her away rather quickly, but it was something for his spies to be on the look-out for.

Snape took a sip from his tea, contemplating the implications of this. Usually he tended to leave speculations about anyone's love-life to more suspect publications such as Witch Weekly. When the Quibbler still existed, that fool Xenophilius Lovegood had once claimed that he and Bellatrix were having some sort of affair, having engineered this entire conflict with an endgame to rule the world as king and queen. Ludicrous, of course.

Still, it puzzled him. The common belief among the Alliance that she had a whole harem of willing men and women to please her at a whim, but this was simply crafty propaganda to tarnish her public image. The truth of the matter was that Bellatrix had never been known to have taken a lover the past five years and if she had she had hidden it well.

He had never known Bellatrix to show feelings for anyone else than the Dark Lord. Had the unpredictable dark witch finally moved on like she had claimed? For one thing, Bellatrix seemingly had an unnatural charisma; her people loved her to the point of the abandon of reason, which Snape found all the more surprising since he had always known her to be a most unpleasant person. Charisma was not a skill Snape possessed, nor did he care to have it. He had a war to win, not a popularity contest. His weapons of choice were strategy, trickery and subterfuge.

Curious. Very, very curious. He'd have to find out more about this mystery woman. If Bellatrix really cared for this young woman, it might be a good opportunity to compromise her on a more... personal level.

Yes, Snape decided that he rather liked that idea.


	16. Africa

**15th of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix and Hermione's bedroom**

It was undoubtedly very late at night when Hermione was startled awake from her nice and cozy sleep in this impossibly soft bed by the double doors opening. It could only be Bellatrix. She hadn't actually seen the dark witch all day after she had been called away by her small council to discuss the crisis in Kenya. Judging from the time of night, the discussions had lasted far quite a long time.

Bellatrix did not bother to turn on the lights. Hermione was still groggy from sleep, barely hearing the faucet running in the bathroom. A few moments later, she felt the bed shift shortly before two arms slowly wrapped around her waist. She felt Bellatrix's body press against her back while her cheek, still cold from the splash of the water used to remove her make-up, buried into her hair.

"Hmmmm," Hermione let out a blissful groan when she also became aware that Bellatrix hadn't bothered to put on her nightshift either. At that moment, Hermione felt absolutely boneless, simply enjoying being splayed out on the bed while being hugged.

"Hm, did I wake you, puppy?" Bellatrix asked, the fatigue on her voice speaking volumes about her state of mind. The dark witch let out a yawn and snuggled up against Hermione.

"'s okay," muttered Hermione. "Tired?"

"A bit," yawned Bellatrix. "No love today, hm? Promise to make it up to you."

"Hmmmm..." Hermione nodded in agreement. It was just so nice to lie here together, embraced as they were. It had startled her just how much she enjoyed being with Bellatrix, even if she was secretly still a little scared of her. Being in her embrace was so very, very soothing. "How was the..."

"Nooooo," Bellatrix let out a low groan. "Don't wanna talk about it. Been talking about it for almost a whole day. Almost killed Rookwood when he wouldn't shut up."

Hermione hoped Bellatrix was joking or exaggerating about that.

"Going to Agartha tomorrow," whispered Bellatrix.

That made Hermione's eyes flutter wide open. It was a rare thing when either Snape or Bellatrix would get directly involved in the fighting, but it was well-known that when they did, the battle always ended in their favor. Propaganda was often used to perpetuate the legend, but Hermione had seen both their raw power in action; both of them possessed power few wizards had ever managed to achieve. She wondered if, these days, Bellatrix could rival Voldemort's power... or even that of Dumbledore.

If Bellatrix were to go to the front, she wouldn't go to start a battle; she'd go there to end one.

"I want to come with you," Hermione whispered.

"Hm?" said Bellatrix. "Why? If you're so desperate to see Agartha, I'll take you there once we've broken the siege."

"No, the fighting," said Hermione. "I need to see it. Please, just... trust me."

The was a long silence. Soft lips kissed her shoulder while her lover's fingernails raked over her belly. "Alright," Bellatrix finally agreed. "But you're not getting anywhere near the front lines."

"I can take care of myself," Hermione protested. "I have fought plenty of wizards."

"I do not deny your magical talents," said Bellatrix, again yawning. "But you are not a battle-mage, nor a soldier. Your dueling skills are rather lackluster."

_Lackluster_?!

Hermione let out a huff, causing the dark witch to chuckle. "You will have protection. Now sleep. I'm tired and I've heard the name Agartha so much times today that I'm half tempted to let the city burn to the ground just to never have to hear of it again."

Sleep. That did sound good. God, the bed was so soft and Bellatrix was so... so warm. To think that the dark witch was capable of being so loving and gentle, when mere months ago she was still tormenting her.

Hermione felt completely and utterly safe in Bellatrix's arms as sleep once again claimed her.

* * *

**16th of October 2003 – Agartha, Kenya – Southern trench.**

After the familiar sensation of being forced through a tube, Hermione and Bellatrix emerged back in reality. The first thing which hit Hermione was the heat of the day, which was in stark contrast to the Russian autumn. The second thing which hit her was the incredible sight of the city of Agartha.

Argatha was an ancient wizarding city-state and one of the first wizarding communities ever created. Hidden from Muggles under the guise of a national park near Lake Victoria, the city was comprised of several layered alabaster pyramids with homes built into the sides. The city itself had expanded through buildings around the pyramids and was surrounded by a high stone wall. There wasn't a building younger than five-hundred years. She could see the history with a single glance and as this city has been built before all this blood-purity nonsense was even on the radar, it stood as testament to what wizards could build when working together. When the Walpurgis Union had started its expansion into Africa, Agartha was one of the first to join Bellatrix like many other nations with a rich magical history. It was a shame to see the city as scarred as it was currently.

In stark contrast to Argatha's magnificence was the sight of the no-man's land when she turned around. Deep trenches had been dug where once had been fields and the lands beyond were scarred by the impacts of magical artillery strikes. It was shocking just how dead the land looked; it would be years before anything would grow here again. Magical barriers protected the city as well as the camps of battle-magi behind the trenches. The defenders were well-organized with make-shift guard towers and broom-launch platforms always at the ready.

A bit further out, into the fields of death, lay the burnt-out husk of a once proud Walpurgis Union Airship. Even though she was supposed to feel happy that there was now one less of these dreadful machines terrorizing the skies, Hermione did hope that the crew managed to escape the vessel before it went down in flames.

"Ah, here we are," Bellatrix nodded while Alexei appeared right next to them. "Alexei, you are in charge of Hermione's safety. That is your only and most vital assignment. At the first time of trouble, you will spirit her away to the city and make sure she stays there. Is that understood?"

Alexei clicked his heels while standing at attention. "Yes, Lady Black."

"Come then," said Bellatrix as the three of them stepped down towards the city. Bellatrix being Bellatrix, she had apparated them on top of the highest tower near the battlefield so her people could see her arrive. Already she was drawing a crowd of adoring fans and it was obvious to Hermione that Bellatrix was just loving all the attention she was getting.

The wizards here did not wear robes or any types of flashy garments she was used to seeing in the UK. Instead, they wore simple and utilitarian combat fatigues with a camo-motif. In fact, Hermione swore she could see the colors shifting as the soldiers moved.

They were led to a large tent where a large man was pouring over maps. The only clue that the man was of higher rank was that there was a small cloth jackdaw stitched above his name, near the symbol of the Walpurgis Union. The man was muscled, a cigar was in his mouth and his skin was almost black as coal. Sweat had formed on his brow, better visible after he had removed his aviators.

"Lady Bellatrix!" he spoke with an accented voice. "Douglas Wangui, in charge of defending the city. It is an honor to be able to meet you, my Lady. May I say that the tales of your astounding beauty were not exaggerated."

The man put down his cigar, bowed before Bellatrix before taking her hand and gently kissed it. That made Hermione narrow her eyes. It didn't even occur to her that she was feeling jealous until the dark witch turned to her to give her a smirk. Obviously, Bellatrix _had_ noticed the change in her expression.

"This is my entourage," said Bellatrix, pointing to Hermione and Alexei. "Their safety is paramount. Do make them feel at home. Now, any changes in the situation since my briefing at Buyan?"

"Nothing," said Douglas. "They're still holed up in the old outpost. We're dug in and the city remains under siege. They've gotten bolder ever since they managed to destroy our air support, but we've been keeping them at bay. My people fight like lions, Lady Black."

Hermione, however, _had_ been briefed about the situation by Rookwood. Phoenix Alliance forces attacked in the night, taking Agartha's defenders by surprise. It was only by the swift action of Douglas Wangui that organized the scattered militias to a point that they had been able to repel the invaders and drive them out of the city. Right now, the Alliance soldiers were holed up in an old outpost of Agartha in the nearby hills. The outpost was from a time that Agartha had to defend itself from rival city-states but had long since been abandoned. As such, it was a highly defensible position.

Since the attack, there had been a shield erected over the city as well as anti-apparation wards. Those measures had turned the fighting into a ground-war, where either sides were just taking shots at each other either with magical artillery or broom-raids. The Agartha militia was outnumbered, though, as fresh reinforcements for the Alliance came in from Uganda by the day. The situation was, according from the reports, becoming rather desperate here. The thing is, these soldiers didn't look anywhere near desperate to Hermione. Aside from the iron will to defend their home, spirits were really high.

"Lady Bellatrix," said Douglas with a grin on his face. "Your special surprise arrived this morning. The Nixies are none the wiser. Oh, next time they dare attack, they ain't gonna know what hit them."

That was a surprise to Hermione. Did Bellatrix have something planned?

"Good," grinned Bellatrix, a type of knowing grin which rather unsettled Hermione. "Why don't you show it to Hermione and Alexei while we discuss our plan, hm?"

Douglas agreed and sent one of his aides, a rather thin but jovial man, to lead them out of the tent and into city. Alexei and Hermione shared a glance when the man led took them to a large pyramid near the city walls. The pyramid had seen some damage, but the aide explained that the side of the pyramid they were entering was facing the outpost. Hermione would soon find out why.

Hermione and Alexei arrived as a massive hollowed-out area. From the dust in the air, this alteration had been made rather recently and, from the placement of the digging tools, the outer walls had been weakened. There were about twenty people of different nationalities mulling about what appeared to be a completely black square-shaped void; the magic making the area so dark that literally nothing could be seen. Odd noises came from the void, a mix of growls and the rattling of chains.

"Sekhmet arrived this morning," said a friendly woman with an accent Hermione placed as Afrikaans. "Pleased to meet you both. I am Carla Franke, Sekhmet's main handler. Don't mind the dark. It keeps her relatively calm yet ready to go when she's needed."

An elephant was being guided towards the darkness while three handlers. "What's going on there?" asked Alexei.

"Feeding time," said Carla, just as the elephant disappeared into the darkness. Immediately, the growls became more violent. Both Hermione and Alexei were startled to hear the panicked death-cry of the elephant which was then suddenly cut off by a loud and sickening crunching noise.

Alexei let out some Russian expletives. "Bliad! Tvoyu matj! What the hell is _in_ there?!" he demanded.

"A nundu," Hermione whispered quietly. A gigantic magical great cat, resembling a overly muscular leopard with massive fangs and a voracious appetite. Considered to be one of the most dangerous creatures alive, their already fearsome physique was eclipsed by its toxic breath, which could wipe out an entire village with a single exhale. Even one was fearsome, and Bellatrix had several.

"Correct," said Carla cheerfully. "We feed them an elephant a day, or the equivalent weight in giraffes if elephants are in short supply. Each nundu has at least twenty experienced handlers on duty at any time."

Hermione had to admit she was fascinated; just how Bellatrix had managed to acquire nundu's was a mystery to the Alliance. "How many do you have?" asked Hermione.

On Alexei's urging, the three of them stepped away some reasonable distance from the pen so he didn't have to hear the tearing flesh while the creature ate. "We have eight. There's Hecate in Mozambique, Lilith in Tunesia, Pandora in Namibia, Kali in Cameroon, Anuket and Nyx in Egypt and Nemesis in Congo. Sekhmet is the gentlest of the eight, so she's often on the move."

Alexei blinked. "The thing which just crunched up an elephant back there is the _gentlest?!_ If that's the case, I don't want to know what the others are like."

"Oh, Sekhmet is a sweetheart," said Carla in an adoring voice. "She only killed two of her handlers, which is far less than any of the others."

Hermione and Alexei shared a worried glance. "Okay," said Hermione. "But these are some of the most dangerous creatures on the planet and are considered untamable. How did you manage to subdue and train them?"

"Ah," said Carla. "We were lucky there. We came across a litter of cubs in the wild. We've weaned them and raised them to be used to being around humans. Even so, they are wild and unpredictable, thus we need to be vigilant always. Only Lady Bellatrix herself can order the transport or reassignment of a nundu. And she was the one who gave the order to have Sekhmet transported to Agartha."

"Being used as a weapon probably doesn't improve their mood either," Hermione muttered, thinking about just how many Alliance troops had fallen to these creatures.

Alexei leaned in to whisper Hermione in the ear. "Hermione? Can we get out of here? This woman's enthusiasm for killer beasts is starting to scare me. I'm afraid she might end up feeding us to it."

Hermione agreed and Alexei quickly led her away from the pyramid and the city, back towards the camp. Hermione, however, would have none of it. "Alexei," she started. "I need a favor. I want to take a look in the trenches."

"What?!" Alexei blinked. "Those are the front lines. Lady Black ordered me to keep you safe. Front lines aren't safe. They're the opposite of safe."

"Please, Alexei," Hermione replied. "I... look, it's hard to explain, but I need to go there. It's the entire reason I came to Agartha. I... I _need_ to stand where the soldiers stand. I need to experience it."

Alexei seemed uncomfortable. "I don't know. If Lady Black finds out..."

"Please, Alexei," said Hermione. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I have a difficult decision to make and this might help me make it."

The young wizard grabbed his chin and squeezed it for a moment, obviously troubled by the prospect. "Alright, but only for a few minutes. And swear on your life that you will never tell Lady Bellatrix!"

"I swear it."

Alexei sighed to himself. "I always fall for a pretty face. By the way... you and our Dark Lady, hm? I was wondering why my flirting was going unnoticed."

"That… probably has more to do with my own awkwardness, Alexei," Hermione blushed.

"A pity," replied Alexei with a smile. "We could have had pretty sons and daughters, I think."

"Uhm, thanks? I guess?"

Though Alexei was obviously reluctant, Hermione made her way to the trenches with him in tow. They scoped the area for a bit, and found a place in the trenches where there weren't many people. The trench itself was a neck-high series of clefts magically dug out in a series of three, all interconnected for quick access. The earthen walls had been reinforced with boards of wood and each trench was about three meters wide. With plenty of artillery strikes and broom-raids, the trenches did offer ample protection.

Truth is, Hermione needed to stand here. In this place where people fought, bled and died. She could see the outpost in the distance, occupied by Phoenix Alliance soldiers. They were the people she had sworn to protect. And yet... here in these trenches also stood good people. Good people who fought to protect their beloved home from invaders. Phoenix Alliance. Walpurgis Union. These were just labels, nothing more. There were good people on both sides who deserved better.

Yes, she had needed to stand here to erase her last doubts. She now knew what she had to do.

"Hermione?" asked a rather nervous Alexei. "Let's get out of here quickly. Do you realize what Lady Black will do to me when she sees you here?"

"Yes," said Hermione with a smile. "Let's go. Thanks, Alexei. You've helped me make a very a very difficult deci..."

They were started by a loud explosion uncomfortably close to the trench; the impact of a magical artillery strike. Another came. And another. Hermione looked up and gasped. Even though it was the light of day, the bolts shone brightly against the blue sky.

"BLIAD!" Alexei shouted. "HERMIONE!"

Impact after impact followed, much closer this time. Around them, soldiers started running around, taking positions to either protect part of the trench of to return fire. Brooms were in the air as wizards of both sides whizzed around like mad bees as they were engaged in dog-fights to the death. Hermione was showered with dirt loosened by an impact as she tried to make her way back to Alexei, hissing as she tried to rub the dirt from her eyes.

"HERMIONE, COME ON! WE HAVE TO..."

Hermione had almost reached Alexei when the world around her became as bright as a thousand suns. There was the shock. The pain. The sensation of flying through the air. Of landing in a crumpled heap. Covered in dirt and... something else.

She could hear nothing, nothing except the ringing in her ears. Hermione let out a groan as she tried to open her eyes, tried to breathe. Everything hurt. Taste of blood in her mouth. God, her leg. Why did her leg hurt so much?

When she finally managed to open her eyes, she saw that she was no longer in the trench but rather lying near the edge, looking down upon it. Blood. She was covered with blood! More and more impacts shot down all around her, but she could not hear them. Her body. Was she hurt? She rather painfully craned her neck down and was startled to see a shard of bloodied white bone sticking out of her leg. The blood... Panic shot through her; just how injured was she?

But then her brain kicked in. A cursory glance revealed no further wounds. Furthermore, her leg didn't hurt as much as expected or even seemed all that injured. It all led to a single terrifying conclusion; the shard of bone wasn't _hers,_ but rather a piece of shrapnel which had hit her.

She looked around frantically and down into the trench. There, where Alexei had only been standing moments ago, was the impact crater. And around it... blood... remains... gore...

That meant... the blood on her body wasn't hers either! When she realized that she was covered in what remained of poor Alexei, she brought her hands to her face and cried out in denial as her body started to tremble. As the bolts kept dropping down, she screamed and screamed and screamed, begging for the assault to stop.

Silenced. Unheard.

Hermione started to desperately drag herself away from the trench. She'd been in battles before, but nothing quite as devastating as this. She had no wand, no means to defend herself or to escape. She had to find cover. She had to get out of the line of fire.

Time slowed to a crawl when she saw _her._

Bellatrix was standing on the top of a tower, right in the middle of the artillery strikes. Wind whipping through her hair, she raised her curved wand and erected a magical barrier to keep the soldiers protected. A second wave of her wand summoned a gust of vile wind which blew most of the Alliance broombadeers out of the sky. Then, the dark witch seemed to cackle, even though Hermione could not hear it, and slowly motioned forward with her wand while letting out a fierce battle-cry.

Part of the pyramid exploded in a rain of dust and stone as a gigantic leopard-like creature smashed through it. Sekhmet was not nearly as sleek as a normal leopard, but made up for it with her terrifying form. When she landed, the ground shook. When she ran, the heavens trembled. Fifty thousand pounds of sheer muscle started to run towards the outpost with alarming speed.

Apparently, the Alliance troops noticed this too and tried to aim their bolts towards the nundu instead in a desperate attempt to stop its charge. Sekhmet, however, was too fast and nimble to be hit by most bolts, and those which did hit were negated by the leather harness she had been fitted with. The blinkers put over her eyes kept the beast completely focused on her target.

Hermione closed her eyes when the beast hit the fortress, knocking down the wall and releasing its toxic breath. The young witch was now all too happy that she had been deafened so she wouldn't have to hear the screams.

* * *

**16th of October 2003 – Agartha, Kenya – Watchtower**

To say that Bellatrix was satisfied with herself would be an understatement. The plan had worked perfectly. In the deepest of secret, Lovegood's agents had helped move the nundu Sekhmet into place and hidden her from view. They had waited for them to attack; it would mean most of the Nixie troops would be on the walls for maximum damage. Once Sekhmet had been released, she sped towards the fortress; according to her scouts, the damage had been substantial.

Now two things had to be done. The first was to recover Sehkmet and wrangle her back into her pen. Dangerous, but not her problem. The second was to rush in with a unit of Douglas' best battle-magi and mop up the remaining Nixie scum. She was about to do just that when something caught her eye. Someone lying near an impact crater in a trench. The dark witch turned her head to get a better look.

Merlin! Hermione!

Instantly, Bellatrix apparated to her side and was startled to see her lover covered in blood and lying on her side. She was relieved to see the girl alive, if a little worse for wear. The dark witch propped her up against a pole and slapped her head against her cheek. "Puppy?" Bellatrix asked, hearing the desperation on her own voice. "Puppy, say something!"

There was nothing. No response, no sign of emotion. In fact, she looked straight ahead into the distance, just sitting there in a catatonic state.

There was the telltale pop of someone apparating in. It was Douglas who knelt down next to her. "Begging your pardon, lady Bellatrix, but we should be on the move. Any minute wasted is time those bastards have to recover."

"In a minute!" Bellatrix hissed at him as she grabbed Hermione by the lapels to prop her up before slapping her against the cheek as hard as she could. All she accomplished was to have her hand covered with blood while a red welt appeared on the girl's cheek.

"She's shell-shocked, lady Bellatrix," said Douglas. "I've been seeing that more these days. There's nothing we can do for her now. She has to come out of it herself."

Bellatrix swore loudly. "Fine!" snarled the dark witch. "Have one of your lads bring her back to Buyan island. Find Lovegood. Tell her to get the best healers in the Walpurgis Union. HAVE HER RIP THEM FROM THEIR BEDS IF SHE HAS TO!"

The dark witch looked on when Hermione was put on a stretcher and rushed to the nearest portkey to St. Petersburg. Her body shook with anger; anger at Hermione and anger at those who hurt her. And where was that idiot Alexei?! Why had he allowed this?!

Bellatrix let out an anguished shriek, pumped out her wand-arm and the watchtower she had stood on earlier promptly exploded in a shower of stone, mortar and metal. Douglas and his men and women stood at attention, ready and honored to have Bellatrix lead them into battle. Time to take out her anger on those who deserved it most. And with that, she was ready to lead her troops into battle.

If they could keep up with her, of course.

While the troops mounted their brooms, Bellatrix shot forward into the air without the aid of a broom and billowed towards the fort in the distance. On approach, she could already see the devastation Sekhmet had left behind; one wall had been completely smashed and judging from the blood smeared about, she had gone to town on the defenders. The big cat herself was already walking off, no doubt having had her fill of flesh.

The chaos in the enemy camp was complete when, after the Alliance battle-magi were trying to sift through the bodies looking for the survivors of the Nundu attack, the remainder of their forces were attacked by none other than Bellatrix Black herself.

The first order of business was to make a flashy entrance. Having transformed herself into a billow of arid black smoke, she made sure the defenders could see her approach. First, she shot up until she was high enough, then angled down sharply and plummeted down towards the camp. Bellatrix slammed through magical barriers, devastated wards and landed with a resounding thud. A shockwave spread out, knocking the few defenders left down to the ground. When they recovered, Bellatrix had already rematerialized.

Bellatrix let out a joyful cackle when she saw the looks of shock and horror on the men and women of the Alliance. A few already turned to flee. Oh, these poor fools were about to learn why Bellatrix Black was someone to be feared.

While still cackling, she once against shot up into the air after turning into a billow of black smoke. This time, she raised some two meters off the ground and shifted around her axis to resemble a small whirlwind. Spinning around, she unleashed dozens of hand-sized bright magical bolts which shot off in random directions. The bolts shredded through stone, metal, flesh and bone alike. This particular curse was one of her own design. As of yet it was unnamed, but Antonin had suggested the 'Black Blitz', which she found somewhat fitting.

The curse had done its job more than admirably. Around her on the ground sounded the cries of the wounded and the dying. Bellatrix let out another mocking cackle when she raised her wand high and with it the bodies of the remaining defenders. She grinned and wiggled her wand, causing them to slam down with bone-crushing force.

Oh, she so enjoyed the fear etched in their expressions, the terror in their cries and the look of despair in their eyes. They stood no chance against her and they knew it. Was this how her old lord had felt when facing down his enemies? Hm, would the old snake ever _have_ those kind of feelings? It mattered not, she supposed. _Bellatrix_ certainly enjoyed it. She'd been cooped up in that palace for far too long; at the start of the war, she had fought in almost every battle. It honed her skills, it made her feel alive. These days, she was only involved in minor skirmishes, so it felt good to get the blood flowing again... both hers and that of her enemies.

_'Pity the warrior who defeats all her enemies,'_ Bellatrix considered mournfully when, after merely half a minute, there were no more left to fight.

She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. These wretches were nothing but pathetic slaves of Snape's machinations. They had invaded _her_ empire. They had attacked _her_ people. And worse yet, their attack had almost meant the loss of _her_ Hermione. The girl whom had begun to mean so much to her.

Oh, they would pay. They would _suffer._ They would _bleed!_

By now, more defenders from other areas of the fort were rushing into see what was going on in the courtyard, only to find a madly grinning Bellatrix standing among a pile of bloodied and maimed bodies. Some of the survivors even tried to put up a fight.

The dark witch let out a mocking yawn when she easily deflected their pathetic attacks; there was not a single proper duelist among them. One fell. And then another. And then another. Screams of pain mixed with cries as terror as their lines started to break. Above their heads, their protective shield started to shatter like glass.

Almost immediately, the first assault from Agartha's defenders came. Battle-witches on brooms swooped onto the walls and aided Bellatrix with a barrage of spells right on top of the remaining Alliance soldiers. Oh, not that Bellatrix actually needed their help, but she considered it would be a good thing for the troops to feel useful and appreciated. She held back a bit, allowing her people to make some kills.

Only to frown and cock her head when two Alliance soldiers ran for brooms to try to escape. That wouldn't do. She flicked her wand, causing a duo of long prehensile whips to lash out and coil around the end of the brooms, causing both would-be deserters to shoot off towards the ground. If they were lucky, they might even survive.

It was over as quickly as it had started. Her bloodlust was sated when there was nothing left but a pile of bodies, the siege being well and truly broken. As some of the soldiers were starting somewhat of a celebration, it was Douglas whom had come to her with a gift in the form of a prisoner.

The sobbing woman was nothing but a slip of a girl wearing a uniform which was too large for her. She was blonde, tear-streaked and looked fresh out of Hogwarts. Bellatrix crossed her arms when Douglas hit the back of her legs with the flat of his machete, making her fall to her knees. "Lady Bellatrix, we found this one trying to play dead underneath a pile of corpses."

"Hah," Bellatrix chuckled. "Clever girl. So, what is the clever girl's clever little name?"

The girl tried to put up a brave front, at least. "K-kathleen M-McLaren," she stammered. "Service number 220491."

"Well, K-kathleen M-McLaren service number 220491," said Bellatrix. "What am I going to do with you, hm?"

"I... I..." the girl stammered. "I'm not afraid of you!"

A mock-pout crossed her features. "Awww, how cute. Did you hear that, Douglas? Little diddums isn't afraid of me."

Bellatrix lashed out, grabbing the girl's chin with her hand in such a way that her long fingernails dug into her skin. Her mock-pout turning into an angry snarl, the pain of her grasp left the girl to pant and whimper as the dark witch pushed her into a wall. It was when Bellatrix started twirling the tip of her wand into her blonde hair that a large wet patch started spreading through her trousers. "Could have fooled me," Bellatrix giggled slightly before pushing her to the ground.

"Well, K-kathleen M-McLaren service number 220491," Bellatrix snarled as the girl scrambled to get away from her. "This is your lucky day! You're the lone survivor who gets to tell her fellow soldiers that their siege has failed... MISERABLY!"

Around her, Bellatrix's loyal troops nodded in agreement, mocking the girl for her foolishness. "So start walking," said Bellatrix. "Uganda is that way. Tell them that Agartha remains in Walpurgis hands. Tell them that the city and its people are under _my_ protection! Tell them that further incursions will incur my wrath! Do you understand me?"

The girl nodded vigorously, obviously not minding the long walk back along the shores of Lake Victoria if it meant getting out alive.

"Oh!" Bellatrix yelled out one last warning to the girl. "I've been told the smell of piss attracts hyenas. So walk fast!"

As the girl hurried out into the fields as fast as her legs could carry her, Bellatrix watched her stumble for a bit before heading back into the ruined outpost. The outpost was bathed in blood as more of Douglas' men came in from Agartha to help pile up the bodies. Victory had been all but total. As such, the time had come to return to St. Petersburg; the warm climates of Africa didn't really agree with her, and Hermione's suffering was fresh on her mind.

Soon enough, she was approached by Douglas who was looking very satisfied. "Might I offer you a cigar, my lady?" he offered. "The perfect way to celebrate this great victory."

"No thank you," Bellatrix shook her head while Douglas happily puffed away.

"There were more survivors than just the girl you sent away," said Douglas. "And several Alliance battalions have surrendered. Your orders?"

Bellatrix was in no mood to be trifled with. The actions of these cursed Nixie idiots had almost cost her her Hermione. "I told that girl she was the lone survivor. Do you want to make a liar out of me?" Bellatrix hissed through her teeth.

"Heh," Douglas replied. "I suppose not."

"Your people have suffered at their hands. I'm certain you and yours can come up some... creative... ways to dispatch them," Bellatrix nodded.

The dark witch didn't stay around to observe the executions. She had more important matters to intend.

* * *

**16th of October 2003 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix and Hermione's bedroom**

When Hermione woke up, her ears were still ringing and she couldn't stop shivering. Healers were running around her, even though her injuries weren't that severe all things considered. Both her eardrums had burst, she had experienced blunt trauma and internal injuries, but the healers had treated her exquisitely on the orders of Bellatrix.

She'd been brought to their bedroom to rest, but found that she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Alexei's face, hear the cries, the explosions... see that monster rushing off into battle. God, what had this war turned them into? She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to keep tears from spilling. Alexei was her friend and it was because of her that he was dead. There wasn't even anything left to bury. He was just... gone.

No.

Not gone. _Obliterated._

It was _his_ blood which covered her back at the trench.

Before she could dwell on it any longer, the double doors leading into the bedroom were violently thrown open. In the doorway stood Bellatrix, obviously seething as she wore an angry snarl on her face.

"What... were... you... THINKING?!" Bellatrix hissed as she stepped forward. "I told you to stay away from the fighting! I told you to stay away from the trenches! And you went anyway?!"

"Bella," Hermione closed her eyes. On top of everything else, she just didn't want to deal with Bella's anger right now. "Please, just..."

"JUST NOTHING!" Bellatrix shouted as she paced back and forth in front of the foot-end of the bed. "Why were you down there? Tell me!"

Hermione understood. Bellatrix wasn't angry because she had defied her. No, she was angry because she had worried her. This thought was confirmed when Hermione reached out her hand to her, only for Bellatrix to calm down a bit, take her hand and sit down on the bed next to her. Tears she had fought to keep back started running down her cheeks as she flew into the dark witch's arms.

For her part, Bellatrix was a bit thrown off by that. "Sssh," she whispered. "Make me understand."

"I _had_ to see it," said Hermione, giving voice to her doubts. "I had to feel what it was like to stand in the trenches. I never expected an actual attack..."

"But why?!" Bellatrix pressed.

"Because I had a very difficult decision to make," said Hermione. "For my sister. For Ophelia."

"Your sister?" Bellatrix frowned. "What does the tiny mudblood have to do with this?"

"Don't you see?" Hermione smiled through her tears. "She's a magical child, Bella. Like me. I don't want her to grow up in a world that is being torn apart by this war. There so much beauty in the wizarding world, Bella. So much wonder. And it's all being destroyed! If it doesn't end, Ophelia is going to be touched by this war and I don't want her to be."

"Hah," Bella snorted haughtily. "By the time Ophelia is old enough to go to Hogwarts, I will have already won it."

"Oh, come on," Hermione shook her head, pushing Bellatrix away slightly. "You don't believe that! You told me yourself that the war is unwinnable. There's not enough troops, not enough resources and too much terrain to cover on both sides. You take some of their territory, they take some of yours. Rinse, repeat! Neither side has been making any significant advances for the past three years! There's fronts and fighting everywhere and it's a complete stalemate. This war is going to keep on going forever! Or until everyone is dead!"

The dark witch pursed her lips as she trembled with rage and, for a moment, Hermione thought that Bellatrix was going to strike her. It never happened.

"So what do you suggest then?!" snarled Bellatrix, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders and shaking her about. "Throw in the towel? Surrender? I promised my people victory!"

"There's more than one way to achieve victory," said Hermione. "Give your people the respite they deserve. Force the Alliance to recognize the Walpurgis Union as a sovereign wizarding nation. _That_ will be your victory. You'll be able to secure freedom for your people and build the Union on ideals it was founded upon."

"Hah!" Bellatrix cackled. "Snape will never allow that."

"Then we will find a way," said Hermione. "There is a precedent in the Muggle world where two diametrically opposed ideologies can co-exist. There will be tensions, sure. The war will become a cold war. But it'll give your people what they need, your troops respite. There will be peace. Diplomacy is the answer, Bellatrix. It'll be a starting point to work from."

Bellatrix snapped around, grabbing the girl by the shoulders and narrowed her eyes while her face hovered inches away from hers. "I... will... NOT beg and grovel in front of _Snape_!"

"You won't have to," Hermione replied. "The Phoenix Alliance is, at its core, a democracy. Snape doesn't have full executive powers like you have. We bypass Snape and approach the Ministers of every Alliance nation directly. But in order for them to take us seriously, we need to upset the balance of power and set a climate of confusion. Force them to the negotiating table and then give them an offer too good to refuse. Trust me, most Alliance Ministries want this war to end. They only need the right incentive."

Bellatrix released the young witch and brought a hand up to rub her chin. The dark witch eyed her suspiciously. "You've obviously given this a lot of thought."

"That's why I had to see the trenches," said Hermione. "I had to make sure I was doing the right thing. Bella, you brought me here for a reason. You wanted me to join your cause."

Bellatrix slipped off the bed and resumed pacing back and forth. "I'll be honest, puppy, it was all about taking away one of Snape's toys. What happened between us was… unexpected."

Hermione smiled to herself. "But it happened. I'm not doing this for the Union, or even for you. I'm doing this for everybody. Give me what Snape never has – the full resources of the Walpurgis Union and your trust. Let me be a diplomat. Let me work towards peace."

Bellatrix remained silent for a moment, and judging from her expression, the dark witch was in conflict with herself. The silence seemed to drag on for centuries, while Hermione looked on with baited breath. ' _Please. Please, see reason. Please listen to me,'_ Hermione silently pleaded with her. She only hoped that their budding relationship would help seal the deal.

"I want Denmark back," Bellatrix stated.

"We can negotiate for that," said Hermione. "No need to send in troops just yet."

"And you have a plan?" asked Bellatrix.

"I have," said Hermione, hoping to sound confident. In truth, there were significant risks involved, but she was sure she was up to the task.

The dark witch ran a hand through her curly hair. "Recognized as a Sovereign nation. Hm, Empress Bellatrix I. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

It was a flippant remark, but one that made Hermione smile.

"Snape can have his corner of the world and we can have ours," replied the dark witch. "Though obviously we'll have the nicer corner."

"It is at that," said Hermione.

Bellatrix grinned at her. "Alright. Why not?"

Elation hit Hermione like a brick to the head. Was she really hearing this? Was Bellatrix listening to her? "Are you..."

"Yes, I am," said Bellatrix. "The full resources of the Walpurgis Union will be at your disposal. Though I suspect you will have more use for Lovegood's agents than Antonin's troops. Your foremost assignment will be to secure our sovereignty in the eyes of the Phoenix Alliance and end the armed conflict. You will report only to me and the members of my small council. There is only one thing left to do. I want to hear you say it."

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. She'd done it. Now the real work would start. She only hoped that her friends would understand.

"Say it!" Bellatrix pressed again, not really angry but rather eager.

"Bellatrix Black," Hermione replied softly. "I formally request to join the Walpurgis Union."

Bellatrix shot up into the sky after doing a little skip, twirling around her axis while letting out a slight woop. In fact, she looked very childlike as she clapped her hands in joy and let out a laugh. "Hah! I won! I won! I won!"

Childish tantrums aside, Hermione was content to let her have this personal victory. At this point, Hermione had thought it to be inevitable. She was already sharing Bellatrix's bed, so the Alliance would consider her a traitor either way. Truly, she hoped her friends would understand that she wasn't doing this for Bellatrix but for the entire wizarding world.

Once her little dance was done, Bellatrix sat down on the bed next to Hermione, propping the both of them up against the headboard while wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Content to snuggle up against the woman who was her lover, Hermione smiled at her and leaned into her. The dark witch brushed lips with her and was suddenly holding something. "You're going to need this," said Bellatrix while holding out her hand.

"My wand!" Hermione grasped as she took it and cradled it as if it was a long-lost old friend.

"I'll make arrangements to give you clearance to travel freely throughout the Union," said Bellatrix.

"No unbreakable vows?"

"A certain someone told me that our relationship is only going to work if there's trust between us."

"It's ironic, really," laughed Hermione after kissing Bellatrix on the cheek. "I am free to travel now, yet... I have to stay hidden in the palace for my plan to work. Figures. But that leaves only... Alexei. I have to tell his sisters what happened. I owe..."

"No," said Bellatrix. "You've been through enough, I'd say. I will have Lovegood take care of it. His sisters will be well provided for. We take care of our own."

"Thank you," said Hermione. "I don't think I could face them anyway."

The two of them sat together for a moment, snuggled together in a moment of bliss. "Hm," said Bellatrix. "I don't think 'puppy' is a fitting nickname anymore."

"What's wrong with 'Hermione'?"

"Ah, that's boring."

"Gee, thanks for that."

"Oh, I know!" said Bellatrix. "Since you're becoming quite a peace dove, 'little dove' seems quite appropriate."

"Little dove?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Most like a bristly owl."

"Being in a war is not good for the hair."

"Tell me about it."

* * *

**21st of October – Norwich, UK – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

In the past years, Snape had learned how to turn any defeat into a victory of sorts. Even though the campaign at Agartha was undeniably an unmitigated disaster which would set back the Alliance's African campaign significantly, Bellatrix had unwittingly given him a mighty weapon to use against her: Kathleen McLaren.

Due to her vainglorious nature, foolish Bellatrix had left a lone survivor to tell the world of her overwhelming victory. And she had done just that. Kathleen's story had been on the front page of every newspaper in the Alliance, the past few days there had been a slew of interviews both with her and analysts of Wizarding Wireless Networks. Kathleen had told the world of Bellatrix's victory, alright, but completely on Snape's terms. These stories Union's cruelties, both real and stylistically exaggerated, had galvanized and reinvigorated public support for the war and his policies.

It also had the planned side-effect of garnering support for the Muggle-born Relocation Act. The harshest criticisms had fallen silent by now, as people started to see the need for extreme measures to ensure wizarding secrecy to keep the wanton thuggery the Union had displayed out of the door.

For the next few weeks, Kathleen would be put on tour across the world to tell her story. The woman was a true patriot; young, eager, loyal and, most importantly, not too bright. She did everything she was told without question, and saw the Alliance as the 'kind-hearted good guy' who kept her family provided with anything they would need.

He sat back in his chair and let a slight smile cross his features. Bellatrix's timing could not have been better. Truly, the vile woman was her own worst enemy. Honestly, the propaganda just wrote itself; the continued use of nundu's as weapons of war despite mounting international protests, rumors of atrocities committed against prisoners of war on Bellatrix's own orders... All these happenings neatly glossed over the fact that, even though the Alliance had sold the invasion as 'an attempt to liberate an ancient magical city from foul oppressors', the act itself had been an illegal invasion attempt on staunch Union supporters.

But this had always been his tactic; the people needed to be kept frightened and steeped in propaganda in order to keep them focused on the war and the dangers Bellatrix and her ilk posed. Snape had always been a master at manipulating the truth. It was all about making any alternatives look worse than the status quo, no matter how bad things got while silencing dissenting voices. Revisionist history was a powerful tool.

However, he was not left without problems. Australia, for one. Their soil and their people, for the most part, had not been touched by the war by virtue of being on the other side of the world. This gave him far less control over them. They weren't buying into the propaganda and stubbornly refused to put the Muggle-born Relocation Act into practice. If action was not taken, he was bound lose control over the situation rather sooner than later.

Curious, though, he had expected retaliatory strikes from the Union by now, but all fronts had fallen silent. He had expected Bellatrix to capitalize on her victory by pressing the attack and getting a lot of her troops killed as a result. But so far, all had been silent. Snape couldn't shake the feeling that Bellatrix was merely biding her time for a big push, so he would have his spies keep their eyes open for the time being.

So far, however, a crushing defeat in one place had led to a stunning victory for him elsewhere. And the war continued on.


	17. The Temple of the Insects

**24th of december 2003 – Turku, Finland – Granger Residence**

Hermione took a moment to look out of the window of her parents' house in Turku to see a wonderful snow-covered city in winter. Though she experienced snowy days in the UK plenty of times before, the snow blanket looked different, thicker and somehow cozier here in Finland. It had stopped snowing now, and the star-filled sky was utterly clear. The landscape outside was the very definition of a winter wonderland.

The last three months, Hermione had been quite busy. Honestly, it felt good to be back into the 'Great Game' of diplomacy as she loved to call it, and for the moment she was still putting the pieces on the board. She'd not only been training new diplomats in the art of negotiations, but was also scoping out Alliance diplomats, doing background checks and keeping a close eye on international affairs. And what a difference the full support of an empire meant; Luna's agents were surprisingly competent and, with her direction, had managed to uncover plenty of information which would give her an edge. When push came to shove, Antonin Dolohov had promised the aid of covert strike-teams to ferret out people and information in hot zones. All at her disposal.

As such, she was building credibility and reputation. Not as Hermione Granger, of course, but as Samantha Morris. Every negotiation she attended, every meeting with foreign dignitaries, every conference, she had polyjuiced herself. Though she'd have to reveal her true identity at some point, she was planning to delay that for as long as she could. The _real_ Samantha Morris had been given a new identity and her further education to become a healer fully paid for by the Union. All in exchange for a few fresh hairs every so often.

It just felt good to be useful again.

She'd been working on her plan for the better part of two months and at the start of the new year, she would make her move. If it worked, there'd be peace between the Alliance and the Union before the start of summer. But today was not for working. This was a time to spend the Christmas Holidays with her family.

She'd be staying in Finland with her family for the rest of the week. And that, by some miracle, included Bellatrix; when she had announced her desire to spend the last week of the year in Finland with her family, the dark witch had cheerfully announced that she was coming along. It was something she had never expected in a million years. But here she was, large as life and sitting on the sofa while having an intense discussion with Ophelia who was sitting on her lap. Ophelia, who was eagerly eyeing the presents underneath the tree, obviously did not fear Bellatrix like many others did.

"Merlin, you're a pest!" hissed Bellatrix while Ophelia triumphantly stuck her chin in the air.

"There is a present underneath the tree with your name on it," said Ophelia. "How did it get there if Father Christmas doesn't exist? _He_ put it there."

"Urgh," Bellatrix shook her head, her dark curls falling out of formation. "For the last time, _Hermione_ bought it."

To which Hermione smiled, crossed her arms and calmly told her; "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bellatrix's mouth opened and closed like a fish on dry land, before she narrowed her eyes. "Traitor!" she hissed.

"See?" Ophelia smiled broadly. "Father Christmas _does_ exist. Just like witches exist."

"Gah!" Bellatrix threw up her hands. "Why are all the women in this family so bloody stubborn?!"

"Tell me about it," Jack Granger said, earning him a smack to the shoulder from her mother which almost caused him to spill his eggnog. Truth be told, Hermione had been quite wary when Bellatrix cheerfully announced that she was coming along for the holidays. She and Bellatrix had grown a lot closer over the last three months, that much was true, but it would still mean that the dark witch would have to be around Muggles and 'mudbloods' for a week. Against expectations, it was going a lot better than she expected, though. Not one outburst, not one tantrum. The build-up Christmas dinner went without a hitch and even though she kept rolling her eyes when they were watching the Queen's speech on the internet, Bellatrix generally was on her best behavior.

Perhaps it was because she sort of liked behind part of a family again. Whenever Hermione had asked her directly, she'd been given a rather evasive answer. Artyom had told her, though, that the previous years Buyan palace had always run on a skeleton crew during Christmas times as most of the staff had returned to the mainland to spend time with their families. Bellatrix had always withdrawn to the privacy of her chambers and was not seen by anyone during this time. God, how lonely she must have been.

"Goodness, are you two still on about Father Christmas?" asked Emma Granger after had stepped into the open kitchen holding a tray of cookies.

"Giving up... or in... is not in my nature," hissed Bellatrix.

"Well," said Jack. "It's not in Ophelia's nature either, though. You're both in this for the long haul."

That made Hermione smile. For the most part, her family was acclimatizing quite well to life in Finland. The language was a bit of a hitch, but the new dental surgery was doing really well and Turku was an amazing city. She was glad that her family had a new place to call home. That her parents had been accepting of her blossoming relationship with Bella had also been such a blessing. Even Ophelia understood what was going on. The little girl had made both her and Bellatrix promise her to take her out sleigh-riding tomorrow.

Thoughts of work hadn't left her, however. The past couple of months she'd made sure the Walpurgis Union didn't get into any unnecessary scrapes. Which was quite difficult with Snape trying to provoke the Union into a fight on an almost daily basis. She was quite worried about would happen now that she was gone for a week, in fact.

Rumors that Australia was planning to break with the Alliance were cropping up more and more. This came as no surprise, as Australia had always been chafing under their policies. Australia leaving the Alliance wasn't part of Hermione's plan, but it could be a tremendous asset if timed correctly. At first, Rookwood had Luna send in agents to try to 'help along' the process, but Hermione had asked Bellatrix to recall them. The risk to her plan was too great if the Walpurgis Union was caught influencing foreign politics. Australia would have to break away from the Alliance by themselves.

"Hey!" sounded from the other side of the sofa. Snapped out of her thoughts, Hermione looked up to see an angry Bellatrix glaring at her. "Stop thinking about work!"

"I wasn't... I... Urgh," Hermione threw up her hands in defeat.

"Hermy got caught!" Ophelia giggled as she still sat on Bellatrix's lap. The little girl looked up at Bellatrix. "Are you going to be kissing her in the kitchen again when mum and dad aren't looking?"

"Oh, dear lord," Hermione groaned.

"Now, now, Hermione, it's nothing to be ashamed about," said her father. "Next time, just warn me so I can take a cute shot with my camera for the family album."

That made Hermione shake her head. "That's why I'm afraid of."

"Ah, yes," said Bellatrix with a grin. "The family album. With all the pictures of Hermione in a baby bath, or at her first swimming lesson. Or throwing a tantrum in..."

"Argh!" Hermione replied with a groan. "What on Earth possessed me to actually keep the family album in storage? I should have burned it in the fireplace when I had the chance!"

Bellatrix's wink said enough. In truth, she could almost get Bellatrix to do anything for her if she wanted to. Was she exploiting Bellatrix's affections for her? Perhaps, but it wasn't as if there wasn't anything mutual. Being in love was a wonderful feeling; it was often that, after a long day of work, she looked forward to seeing and spending time with Bella. There was a change in Bella too; she was more… stable, less prone to emotional outbursts and fits of anger. However, the dark witch could still be startlingly unpredictable. Hermione saw this as a good thing, however, as it has kept an air of excitement to their relationship.

"Alright, you lot," said Emma Granger as she emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and two ovenmits. "It's time to..."

"OPEN OUR PRESENTS!" Ophelia shuddered in anticipation.

"... head to the dinner table," Emma finished calmly. "Christmas dinner is served."

"Awww," Ophelia sighed in disappointment.

Before long, the entire family was gathered around the dinner table. The food on the table was in pale comparison to the food served daily at the palace, but the very fact that it was her mum's cooking and she was enjoying her first Christmas dinner with her family in five years made it the tastiest food in the known universe.

"Lookie here," said her father after producing a box. "I had to order these on the internet, but it was worth it. Can't have a proper English Christmas without Christmas crackers, now can we?"

Before long, the cardboard tubes were pulled on and the traditional Christmas cracker tat stored inside ended up on the table. Ophelia ended up with most of the paper hats while Bellatrix was oddly pleased with a cheap little plastic tiger which she promptly enchanted to run laps around her plate. Which left Hermione with the crap joke.

"What happened to the man who stole an Advent Calendar?" she read. "He got twenty-five days. Ugh, I swear these get worse by the year."

* * *

**24th of december 2003 – Turku, Finland – Granger residence, Hermione's room**

Still panting and with skin glistening from their passing moment of post-coital bliss, both Bellatrix and Hermione fell to their pillows as they lay underneath the duvet of the bed in Hermione's room. Though it was a lot smaller than the giant bedroom at the palace, that certainly hadn't stopped them from making love tonight.

Hermione snuggled up against her lover, laying her head on her shoulder while long fingernails raking over her back caused her to shiver slightly. "Hm... nice..."

"Just nice?" Bellatrix frowned. "Don't be shy. It's perfectly alright to say that I was fantastic."

That made Hermione chuckle. "Alright," she smirked. "You were utterly fantastic."

"And so were you," the dark witch winked while tapping a fingernail on Hermione's nose. "I rather like this bed too. Very cozy."

"Thanks for sharing this with me," Hermione whispered. "The first time celebrating Christmas with my family in five years, and the first time with my sister."

"Well," Bellatrix smirked. "It's been a long time since I had a reason to celebrate Christmas. It's more that I didn't want to be left out. I do so hate to be ignored."

The young witch smiled. Of course, Bellatrix's pride would never admit her to say that she was here because of Hermione. "Hm," Bellatrix offered her a pouty smile. "You know what's also nice?"

"Hm?"

"Your hand on my bum," the dark witch's pout turned into a smirk.

"Hah," said Hermione, making no effort to move her wandering hand while the dark witch treated her to a kiss.

Hermione had figured out that Bellatrix liked being kissed and nibbled on the neck just as much as she did. Bellatrix let out a moan when Hermione buried her face in her curly dark hair and let her lips roam along sensitive skin.

"We should try to keep it down a little," said Hermione in between kisses. "Ophelia might hear us."

Bellatrix didn't seem overly concerned with that. She shrugged and let out a brief huff. "I'll just tell her that she heard Father Christmas struggling to climb down the chimney. The little witchling will believe anything."

Hermione smiled as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer to her lover. "Sometimes this still feels unreal. Knowing who we both are, I mean. And that we're now together."

"At least you've admitted that you're attracted to women," Bellatrix retorted, earning herself a glare and a playful punch to the shoulder.

"What time is..." Hermione whispered, while groggily looking for the clock. "What? We went to bed around midnight and... that means we've been at it for almost two hours."

"Well, _someone_ can't get enough of me, hm?" the dark witch drawled haughtily, as if she'd just stated the obvious. "Quality and Quantity. Bellatrix Black delivers on both."

"Go... to... sleep," Hermione rolled her eyes and suppressed a yawn. "My parents want to spend Christmas Day out in town. Knowing my dad, he'll chase us out of bed at eight. And before you ask, no hexing allowed."

"I am the leader of the Walpurgis Union," said Bellatrix with narrowed eyes. "I do as I please!"

"Not in this house you don't," Hermione yawned.

"Hmmm, it's so sexy when you get all assertive at me," Bellatrix's voice caught in her throat. "Let's do it again..."

Though a tremble went through her as Bellatrix pushed her head to one side to nip at her neck while a hand slid down to her backside, Hermione was coherent enough to not give in. "Bella," she whispered. "If you had your way, we'd be at it all night."

"And this is a complaint?" Even in the darkness of the room, it was easy to see the twinkle in Bellatrix's dark eyes.

"It is when we have to be up for most of the day," said Hermione. "Dad always gets very active on Christmas Day. Wait till the night to Boxing Day, when he'll be too knackered to do anything."

Truth be told, Hermione was quite disappointed that she had to blow off's Bellatrix offer of more lovemaking. The past couple of months, she had learned not to deny herself. Making love was wonderful; to think she'd been missing out for so long.

"Fine," Bellatrix muttered with disappointment. They lay in each others arms as sleep claimed them both.

When Hermione started awake, it was still dark outside. Judging from her swallow and rhythmic breathing, Bellatrix was still fast asleep. Hermione checked the clock and saw it was quarter to three in the morning. Her throat parched, she figured it was time to get a quick drink.

Bellatrix looked so incredibly peaceful when she slept, and the young witch did her best to disentangle herself from her lover without waking her up. In the past few weeks, she had learned a very easy trick to do this. The young reached over to the underside of Bellatrix's chin and gently tickled her with her index-finger. Bellatrix grimaced and let out an annoyed grunt. Hermione pressed on until Bellatrix weakly batted at her as if to chase off a mosquito. Eventually, she let out a groan and threw herself to one side, leaving Hermione to escape her embrace.

After lightly stepping out of the bed, Hermione reached for a bathrobe and quietly slipped out of the room and into the darkened corridors of the house. After taking the stairs up, she crossed the living room and headed into the kitchen, hissing when her bare feet touched the cold stone tiles of the kitchen floor. Hermione filled a glass of water from the faucet, put it to her lips and let the cool liquid slide down her parched throat.

Just as she put down the glass and prepared to go back to bed, she became acutely aware of someone being in the kitchen with her. Thinking it was Bellatrix, she prepared to turn towards her when suddenly a hand clasped around her mouth from behind while an arm surrounded her waist.

Hermione let out a muffled cry when she was suddenly overcome with the sudden sensation of being forced through a narrow tube while the world faded all around her. Portkey travel! She was being abducted! Terror gripped her by the throat as she and her captor traveled through the void of nonexistence; was it an enemy of Bellatrix? Someone from the Alliance whom had caught on to what was basically a defection? In either case, Hermione got ready to defend herself.

With a slight bump, Hermione found herself on the wooden floor of what seemed to be a small cabin. Fully aware that she was completely naked sans her bathrobe and lacking her wand, she shot forward and frantically looked around for anything to use a weapon. Her hand found the ear of a pewter pitcher, which she eagerly lifted from the table. With a grimace, Hermione spun around to face her assailant.

She was already in mid-swing when she came face to smiling face with none other than Luna Lovegood. Hermione let out a yelp and released her grip on the pitcher, causing it to fly from her hand. Luna calmly craned her neck so that the projectile whizzed right past her head without hitting her.

"Hello Hermione," Luna greeted.

"What the..." Hermione growled, quickly redoing the ribbon keeping her robe closed. "Luna!"

Luna seemed less than phased. "I'm sorry for taking you without asking first, but we are on a strict time-table. Honestly, I was thinking I'd have to find a way to lift you from your bed if it'd take longer for you to take your nightly drink of water."

Hermione blinked. That much was true; it happened quite often that Hermione woke up in the middle of the night and would leave the bed for a visit to the lav and a drink. But how would... "Spymaster," said Hermone. "Of course. You've been watching the house for Bella's sake. How many agents?"

"Five," said Luna. "Two in the empty house for sale across the street. Three in a duckblind beyond the neighbor's yard. But that is besides the point."

Luna stepped over to a suitcase lying on a cot in this... what appeared to be some sort of wooden cabin. There were a few lights giving off a dim glow, but she noticed these magical lamps did not shine their light beyond a certain point. There were a few simple pieces of furniture, a door, a fireplace and two windows. Beyond the windows was only snow and darkness. There was a wilder look to it. "We... we're not in Finland anymore, are we?"

"I have no time to explain," spoke Luna in a hurried fashion as she unpacked the suitcase and revealed two sets of black robes. "It's nearly the witching hour and we're almost out of time. Honestly, you and Bellatrix have been going at it so long, I feared we'd miss our chance."

"W-what?!" Hermione blushed bright red, but then narrowed her eyes. "Have you been spying on us in our bedroom?! How dare you! We..."

"NO TIME!" Luna turned, an incredible sense of urgency etched on her face. "I have no time to explain this to you now. Put on this robe and this mask. Also, here's a set of underwear."

Luna handed her a black robe which looked to be both ceremonial and made for cold climates. Fur lining, a thick cloak and what seemed to be gold embroidering in the shape of a serpent eating its own tail. The hood was thick and heavy, and meant to be used along the heavy copper face-covering helmet she now had in her hands. The mask itself was... unsettling. Shapeless and devoid of any recognizable features except for the scales etched in the metal. Since the cabin was cold and Hermione was naked, she figured the robe was better than nothing. But the mask gave her pause.

In the meantime, Luna had donned hers and suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. "I don't have time to explain this to you, Hermione, but you're going to have to trust me. Listen to me and listen carefully. Your name is Sister Bernadette. Say it."

"Luna, what..."

"SAY IT!"

"Right, my name is Sister Benadette," Hermione hissed. "But you'd better have a damn good explanation for this later."

"If you reveal who you truly are, you will die," said Luna. "If you act suspiciously, you will die. No matter what happens, don't react, stare straight ahead and do whatever the crowd is doing. Do not step out of line or you will be killed. Do not cry out or you will be killed! We're about to head into mortal danger. Do you understand me, Hermione? If you don't follow these rules, we will both die tonight."

Hermione's mind reeled. Just what on Earth was Luna planning to do?!

The young witch placed the helmet over her head and fastened the hood. It was heavy, but it was enchanted to let her see through the metal just as well as if she wasn't wearing it at all. The same couldn't be said about breathing, though.

"Right, are you ready?" asked Luna. Through her mask, her voice sounded eerily distorted as she looked at her with that creepy faceless mask over her head. "Remember. Sister Bernadette."

Before Hermione could respond, Luna grabbed her hand and apparated the both of them away.

* * *

**25th of december 2003 – Podkamennaya Tunguska River, Siberia – Ground Zero**

A shiver went through Hermione's body when the apparation deposited the both of them right in the middle of a snowstorm. Cold snow-laden wind whipped around her as Hermione instinctively wrapped her arms around her upper body. Darkness was all around her and the heavy snowfall blinded her vision so she could barely see anything at all. Her feet dragged through the snow, and she was happy for the fur-lined boots which came with the robe.

Luna grabbed her by the hand and led her into the heart of the storm. The cold was starting to become unbearable when she, through the snowy haze, started to see a light in the distance. After almost tripping over a partially snow-covered fallen tree, she arrived at what seemed to be a round and low building. Though through the storm she could only see parts of it, she could see it was made from heavy bricks and the top was covered mostly with soil and foliage. Magic was no doubt being used to hide it from Muggle eyes. But where on Earth _were_ they?

Sconces flanked two large wooden double doors and next to the sconces stood two burly cloaked and masked people. Hermione froze in her steps while one of them approached Luna. The man took out his wand and roved it over the both of them. A moment of panic gripped her by the throat; though she had no idea what she was getting herself into, it was obvious that being discovered wouldn't be a good thing.

"Sister Ludmilla, Sister Bernadette," he greeted, speaking in an accented distorted voice. "Welcome. The ceremony is about to start."

That was their cue to hurry things along. Hermione and Luna were ushered inside and even though she was now out of the cold storm, being inside this dungeon-like building didn't make her feel any safer. She and Luna were standing in a dome-like structure illuminated by magical candles lining the walls. They were sharing this room with at least fifty other cloaked and masked people, which she carefully avoided any contact with. Thankfully, wearing this bulky mask allowed her to turn her head look around a bit without it seeming so.

The floor was built around a rather large and dark pit in the center of the room. She wasn't close enough to get a proper look, but she gathered that it was deep. On the other side of the chasm was a platform and a stone slab with... something in a bag lying on top of it. The symbol of a snake eating its tail was embossed in the wall at several locations.

' _What is it about evil madmen and effigies of snakes?'_ Hermione wondered while a man with a larger, more adorned helmet stepped towards the slab while flanked by six other robed people. Instantly, Hermione felt that something was off. Though the robes were bulky enough to hide shape and gender of the ones who wore them, these people were... larger and their bodies were distorted and misshapen. One of the robed persons had an arm which was much longer than the other. Another robed person walked as if he had two sets of knees in his legs. There was another whose neck was angled forward in such a way that it seemed anatomically impossible.

The hierophant raised his arms and the crowd stepped forward to form a circle around the chasm in unison. Hermione had become part of the circle because Luna had surreptitiously grabbed her by arm and dragged her forward.

A chant started echo through the dome, a whisper as first until it got steady louder. Hermione tried to listen to it though the howling of the wind whipping along the building and it got steadily more recognizable.

"Ouroboros... Ouroboros... Ouroboros... Ouroboros... Ouroboros..."

Hermione gasped when the hierophant ripped the cloth from whatever it was that was lying on the slab, and it was revealed to be a person tied up and gagged. It appeared to be a young man in his twenties, struggling against his bonds as the misshapen people gathered around it. Almost instinctively, she tried to take a step forward only to have her arm grabbed. She turned to Luna, and felt her eyes piecing into her through her faceless mask. Remembering her earlier words, Hermione willed herself to calm down.

She wanted to scream when the misshapen people drew long serrated daggers. She wanted to rush forward to help the lad when they raised the daggers high. But she had no wand and death was certain if she tried. So she stood there and looked on numbly when the crowd whipped itself into a frenzy.

"Ouroboros... Ouroboros... Ouroboros!"

Hermione wanted to cry when the misshapen people brought their daggers down upon the boy again and again and again. Blood splashed and spurted forth with every strike. This was nothing less than a slaughter and horrified Hermione to the bone. The boy was still screaming while being stabbed again and again, and was still alive when the misshapen people carried his bleeding and twitching body towards the pit. With a heave, the boy was thrown into the darkness below.

From one moment to another, the chanting stopped. While misshapen people returned to the altar, the cultists apparated away one by one. Hermione was stunned as she stood in place, trying to make sense of what couldn't possibly make sense. Too late, she noticed that Luna was inching towards the edge of the chasm while the other wizards were still apparating away.

Unfortunately, she attracted the attention of the misshapen people who were turning towards her. Immediately, Luna stopped in her tracks and seemed hesitant for a moment. She took a single step back and the misshapen people relaxed a bit. Their baleful eyes, even while hidden behind their faceless masks, bore into the both of them. Without saying a word, Luna grabbed Hermione and apparated the both of them away from this wretched, evil place.

* * *

**25th of December – Krasnoyarsk Krai, Siberia – Walpurgis Union Intelligence Safehouse.**

Such a relief it was to be back in this simple cabin. Any place was better than that den of vipers.

Luna threw off her mask in obvious frustration. "Damn," she sighed. "I was so close. If only I..."

Hermione would have none of it. She wanted answer and she wanted them immediately. "Luna!" she hissed while throwing off her own mask. "What the bloody hell was that? And why in heaven's name did you bring me to see that horror show?"

"You needed to see it," said Luna. "You need to see what is at stake."

The answer didn't do much to ease Hermione's mind. The young witch, disgusted with the black robe she was wearing, started to tear at it. Even being naked was better than wearing that damn thing, no matter how cold it was. While she was dressing into her bathrobe, Luna seemed to be completely lost in thought, holding her hand to her chin.

"Just what are you involved in?" Hermione demanded.

" _I_ am not involved in anything," replied Luna. "I, or rather we, have covertly taken the place of two believers of that cult. And believe me, it was far from easy to do so."

"So," Hermione demanded. "Sister Bernadette and Ludmilla are real persons? What happened to them?"

Luna remained silent for a moment. "Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to."

And there it was. Luna 'loony' Lovegood, her happy-go lucky quirky friend from Hogwarts. Even as Bellatrix's spymaster, she was known for never having causing a single death during her career. Though she hadn't spoken the words, it was obvious that she had both of those cultists killed. The girl who had her back at the Battle of Hogwarts five years ago. What was left of her? She hardly recognized this obsessed, sinister person she had turned into. Had she finally gone off the deep-end?

"Listen to yourself!" Hermione returned while crossing the room to look Luna in the eye. "God, you're more obsessive than Bellatrix used to be, and that's saying a lot. Now, I'll ask again and I want a straight answer from you. What did we just witness?"

"People like me," Luna replied.

"A cult which makes human sacrifices?" Hermione shook her head.

"No," protested Luna. "People who are _aware_. Who have realized the dark truth hidden in the shadows of the wizarding world. They were part of a larger group of witches and wizards which has existed since ancient times. Like me, this nameless group was searching for clues, information, divinations. To search for a way to prevent our doom."

More incoherent paranoid ramblings. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, it didn't matter what _she_ thought, as it was obvious that Luna and whatever group or cult she was referring to did believe it strongly. "Are these the same people who performed this Durmstrang experiment which caused the Tunguska Event? Or earlier experiments of the same kind?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Luna let out a dismissive laugh. "These people know better than to tempt fate. Though some rare survivors of those experiments tended to become part of it. However, somewhere around 1755, there was a schism in the group. Around that time, there was a massive earth-quake in Lisbon which almost completely destroyed the city."

"Another experiment?" Hermione asked.

"Possibly," said Luna. "Likely, even. But nothing was ever documented. In any case, from what I've been able to piece together, several hardliners thought the situation so hopeless and desperate that they foolishly hoped they could placate Ouroboros. Basically, to bribe it with human sacrifices. Apparently, this cult of hardliners wiped out the rest of the group and devolved into the abomination which you saw today. They're really nothing more than a secret society of degenerates, but they guard their secrets really well."

"Warn Bellatrix," Hermione demanded. "This can't be allowed to continue!"

"No!" Luna turned to her. "Bellatrix can never know of this! If she finds out, she'll send in the army to wipe them out. But they will know she will be coming; they'll go underground and we'll lose sight of them. And I will lose my only lead to finding clues to the location of the Dead Grimoire."

That caught her attention. "Dead Grimoire?" Hermione asked. "What the devil is that?"

"Until the schism in 1755, the group poured all their research, clues, divinations and theories about Ouroboros into a single magical tome. Only one copy exists, but nobody knows where it is. I am hoping this cult either has it or knows where it lies," said Luna.

"But at long as this cult remains active, people keep dying!" Hermione protested. "And for what?!"

Luna shook her head. "Make no mistake, based on my research, we _are_ living in the end times. This twisted lot knows that too and hopes to delay their end by begging for a few more years of life."

"God," Hermione rubbed her forehead. "Human sacrifices... just when you think the wizarding world can't get any worse. Is there even any point to this?"

"It's a pointless waste!" Luna narrowed her eyes. "Imagine, you are in your garden getting ready to wash away an anthill with your garden hose. The ants see their doom coming and one of them strides towards you with an offering of a grain of sugar in hopes of convincing you to spare their world. What would you do, Hermione?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I'd likely not notice it at all. In fact, I'd probably step on it without even realizing it. And then I'd wash away the anthill anyway."

A humorless, uneasy smile crossed Luna's features. "You have your answer."

"Answer me this then," Hermione challenged. "Why did you bring me here tonight? Why did I have to see that? On Christmas Eve of all days!"

"Hermione," Luna started. "I've uncovered writings, texts, divinations and prophecies made by the group before the schism. You have no idea just how often your name turns up in their writings."

"Is that why you brought me here? Not here but into the Walpurgis Union? The palace? Luna, just tel me what it is that you want me to do?"

Luna twisted around on her axis, her smile gone, her eyes narrowed. "I DON'T KNOW YET!" she shouted back, her voice laced with frustration. "Your name is mentioned, as well as that there will be a role for you to play. References to this time period, but nothing else. The Dead Grimoire will contain on the answers, but I cannot find it!"

Luna took a step forward. There was a sense of weariness about her. "I've carried this burden ever since I've learned the truth about my mother's death. Ever since I've come to serve Bellatrix, I've been leading this double life. A darkness lies at the heart of the wizarding world which might mean the end of us all if I can't piece it all together in time. And try as I might, I can't convince you to believe any of it. I've tried to present an argument to you in piecemeal in hopes of convincing you, but, Hermione, we are running out of time."

And with this, Hermione finally understood the stress her friend was under. Self-inflicted or not, her intentions were noble. Hermione didn't want to think of the things Luna had done or gone through to try to uncover the truth.

"Hermione," Luna pressed and pointed to a stack of books and scrolls. "There is your evidence. Tomes from different eras and from different people. A variation of your name is in all of them. Tullius Tiro's diary is just the tip of the iceberg! We no longer have the luxury of time for you to slowly figure out what is going on. Within less then a year, all we know is going to end! ALL OF IT! The end times are here and, like it or not, you will have a role to play in it. All that is left to do is figure out what that role is. Let's see if you're still as skeptical about it when the world disappears from underneath your feet!"

Even if all this was true or not, Luna had unwittingly given her so much; it was because of her that she had found love with Bellatrix and it was because of her that she now had the opportunity to end this was and work towards a lasting peace. That alone had been worth it, whatever happened.

The young witch stepped towards her friend and took her in a firm embrace. "Luna," Hermione spoke softly. "I believe that you believe it. And if I can, I'll help you try to piece it together. But only _after_ the war ends. If my plan works, we'll have all the time in the world to figure it out together.

After releasing her friend, she was rewarded with the warmest of smiles. "That's a good start," said Luna. Apparently, it had done her a world of good to hear that Hermione believed her... at least, somewhat.

Before Hermione was transported back, Luna turned to her one more time. "But you don't have nearly as much time as you would hope to have." The way Luna said it sent chills down her spine.

* * *

**25th of december 2003 – Turku, Finland – Granger Residence**

Hermione found herself back in her parents' house, just standing there numbly. She'd gone from celebrating Christmas with loved ones to witnessing a ritual murder in the middle of Siberia. God, she was cold, confused and, honestly, more than a little scared. Doomsday cults, world-eating cosmic horrors, dark prophecies and hidden tomes with forbidden knowledge. Whatever Luna had gotten herself involved in, it was not for the feint of heart.

Part of her felt like she should tell Bellatrix despite Luna's wishes, if only to protect her friend from herself. But Luna would likely never forgive her, and as far as she knew Luna was the only one with enough dirt on this vile cult to shut it down permanently.

For now, all she wanted was to get back to bed and try to forget everything which had happened to her this night. She rushed downstairs and quietly slipped into her bedroom. There she found Bellatrix, still peacefully sleeping and blissfully unaware of the vile cult operating right under her nose. She was aware that she was high-strung at the moment, and jumped at any shadows she saw near her for the fear of a misshapen individual jumping out to get at her.

Hermione let her bathrobe fall to the ground and quickly lay down under the duvet, only to have the dark witch immediately wrap her arms around her. Hm, the sensation of Bellatrix's warm bare body pressing against hers was utterly wonderful; she needed to feel safe and loved now more than ever.

The dark witch, however, was less happy. "Nrrrgh, you're so cold," she drawled sleepily, her eyes still closed.

"Warm me up," Hermione pleaded with a whisper after she closed her eyes.

"What took you so long, little dove?"

"Nothing, Bella," Hermione lied. "Go back to sleep, love."

"Hmmmmm..." sounded a yawn as Bellatrix pulled the girl close to her while Hermione took the opportunity to kiss her on the lips. Her arms wrapped around her lover and the duvet was pulled tightly around them. Soon enough, Bellatrix was again asleep.

Hermione, however, didn't sleep at all for the remainder of the night.

* * *

**Location=∞. T=zero.**

Primitives did what primitives did best when given power they never deserved to have. They made war.

Soon.

It felt Its chains straining to hold It.

Soon.

Soon.


	18. Stairway to Heaven

**14th of January 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Small Council Chamber**

Hermione Granger took her seat at the large round table of the small council chambers with the rest of Bellatrix's inner circle. By now, she was quite familiar with the procedures, having attended every meeting whenever she was not out in the field. As usual, she was sitting in her regular seat with her papers and notebook at the ready, having arrived with perfect punctuality.

And, as usual, she was the only one there.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione watched the clock and tapped her quill to the paper while she waited impatiently. Every time was the same; she'd be there on time and ready to start, while the others trickled in and proceeded to waste the first fifteen minutes of the meeting with idle chit-chat. To Hermione, this was beyond vexing.

As predicted, the attendees eventually walked in one by one, cheerfully chatting and sharing jokes while Hermione narrowed her eyes at the clock; the meeting would now start twenty minutes later than scheduled and Bellatrix was _still_ absent. Hermione sighed; this was no way to run an empire.

Finally, the lady of the hour arrived, looking rather pleased with herself. The dark witch sauntered around the table and sat down on the largest chair, conveniently placed right next to Hermione's. The young witch took out her reports and got ready for the actual meeting to start. One thing which bothered her, however, was Luna's absence. She had attended no meetings and Hermione had seen hide nor hair of her since Christmas Day. It worried her greatly.

"Right," said Bellatrix as she leaned on the table. "Let's get this party started. Matters of state?"

Rookwood scraped his throat. "Several issues of note. Durmstrang has petitioned us for extra funding. Ever since new Walpurgis policies has forced them to accept mudbl... muggle-born students, they are experiencing lack of dorm space and require extra classrooms to keep their curriculum to the expected level of standard."

"Why was this necessary again?" asked Dolohov. "We have plenty of public wizarding schools."

Hermione sighed briefly before answering. "Muggle-borns are fighting and dying for the sake of the Walpurgis Union in your armies, Antonin. Should they not be rewarded by having the same opportunities for a high-quality education if they have the talent? Durmstrang does rigorous testing for high academic standards... quality of blood should not be an issue."

"I tend to agree," replied Bellatrix. "And it's not as they are letting any old riff-raff in. Fine, give them the budget they need to expand. Cut the funding from public schools with lesser attendance. Anything else?"

Rookwood scraped his throat again. "Nothing much else on the agenda. It is worth mentioning that morale is reasonably high as the fighting seems to have stabilized."

"Can confirm," said Antonin. "There's still some scrapes going on along the usual fronts in Europe and Africa, but there's been no new conflicts. I say we have Hermione to thank for that."

Hermione nodded. "My diplomatic staff has worked hard to put out all brushfires which could open new fronts. If my plan is to work, we need to keep ourselves free of scandals and diplomatic incidents. We've been working closely with Luna's agents to thwart any attempts to provoke us. You'll find a full list of thwarted attempts in the documents I've provided."

"Right," said Antonin. "That explains why Lovegood is, once again, absent."

Indeed, she had been keeping Luna's agents quite busy. Full reports had been given to all members in her absence, but still she wondered what her friend was doing. What she had seen on Christmas eve still weighed so heavily on her mind. Possibly Luna's too.

"Bet we're driving Snape batty," Rookwood chuckled. "That particular tactic always worked before for him."

"Yes," laughed Antonin. "Because Bellatrix would always fly off the handle at the smallest provocation and send in the troops. I think we have Hermione to thank the change in that too. Hell, I always did say what Bella needed most was a good shag to reign in her temper."

Hermione blushed bright red before Bellatrix lay a hand on her shoulder, gently pulled her towards her and kissed the top of her head. Still, it amazed her that Antonin could get away with statements like that; had it been anyone else, her dark witch would likely have hexed them. As it stood, she let out a slight cackle before releasing Hermione.

"Secondly," started Antonin as he stopped grinning. "The construction of our new prototype dreadnought is almost complete. Considering the sheer amount of setbacks on that project, it's a surprise that it's even floating. The construction crew feels confident enough to invite their Dark Lady for an inspection tour."

Ah, yes, Hermione had first heard about this project in passing from Alexei so long ago and had since learned much more about it. The Valkyrie, first airship of her kind, was the prototype of a new and larger design of warship. Since its inception, the project had been plagued with numerous setbacks and delays, causing its budget to more than triple. Supposedly, it would be the Walpurgis Union's 'Titanic in the air'. Considering what happened to the original Titanic on its maiden voyage, the comparison wasn't exactly encouraging.

Bellatrix shrugged her shoulders. "I'll pick a date when I feel like it," she replied, indicating that she was in no real hurry. "Somewhere next week, maybe."

"Why did we ever invest in that?" Antonin huffed as he crossed his arms. "For the money we've pumped into that thing, we could have gotten ten regular airships to be directly deployed at the front lines."

"Prestige and propaganda," Rookwood added. "Our airships have become somewhat of a calling card. Besides, they are beautiful."

It was then that Maina, the mistress of coin, announced her desire to speak. "On that note," the Finnish woman spoke up. "Now that we have a plan in motion to end the war, I would like to present you with some food for thought regarding the Walpurgis Union's economy."

Bellatrix let her head roll back and let out a disappointed groan. Oh dear, it seemed like her dark witch was already getting bored at the mere mention of the word 'economy'.

"I am serious, lady Bellatrix," spoke Maina with a soft smile. "The Walpurgis Union was forged under a condition of war and our nation has only existed in a state of war. As such, we have an economy completely based on war industry. We've got plenty of professional soldiers and industries based on crafting war supplies. If we do not plan ahead and transition our economy to embrace other disciplines, we will be facing massive unemployment as demand for materials of war falls. Massive unemployment will mean civil unrest, which our enemies can exploit. If we..."

As Hermione listened to Maina, thinking she was making some rather good points, she was suddenly reminded just why Bellatrix had seated her next to her. With an involuntary sharp intake of breath, Hermione grabbed the side of the table with both hands when a soft foot slowly stroked the side of her leg up and down through the fabric of her trousers.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the corner of Bellatrix's lips twist into a grin of knowing mirth. Hermione knew there was no way out, so she merely closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations.

"... considering areas of tourism and export. There are many regions in the Union which are traditionally good vacation spots. Greece, for one, as well as Scandinavia. Romania has always been popular with dragon watchers..."

Hermione was set for some revenge. With one swift movement, she put her left shoe to her heel and jimmied out of her right shoe, letting it silently drop to the floor. The side of her foot touched Bellatrix's bare ankle and, having found her mark, Hermione slid her foot over Bellatrix's, finding a steady rhythm.

God, she felt so _bad_. Playing footsies underneath the table during an important meeting of state was just so... rebellious.

"... exports between Walpurgis nations and, more importantly, neutrals. Foreign markets are quite interested in the goods we can provide. We have some of the best craftspeople in the world, and should we encourage the manufacture of food and entertainment products..."

A hand on her knee, slowly rubbing back and forth. Hermione shuddered.

"...converting at least half of our military airships to cargo carriers or cruiseliners for tourism's sake..."

It was then that Hermione saw Rookwood and Antonin exchanging a look, with Antonin rolling his eyes. They'd been discovered! Hermione quickly crushed her foot into her shoe and tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Honestly," Antonin chuckled. "Every single time we get to the topic of the economy, this happens."

"Took exactly," Rookwood paused to check his pocket-watch. "Oh, I'd say, thirty seconds."

"Still better than the usual groaning, excessive yawning and threatening to set my hair on fire," Maina laughed.

Hermione didn't really know why she was so supremely embarrassed; the same thing happened at every single small council meeting – Bellatrix would get bored, start playing footsies with her and they'd end up being discovered.

"Right," grinned an amused Bellatrix as she sat back on her throne-like chair and gazed upon the room imperiously. "Maina, draft a proposal for the development of our post-war economy. A full version for Rookwood and Hermione. A cliffnotes version for me, please."

There were more topics to be discussed, but Hermione remained rather quiet for the duration unless asked a question. Partly because she was still embarrassed, and partly because she was still afraid that the details of her plans might leak beforehand and would nip it in the bud before she'd get the chance to even get it off the ground. The small council meeting eventually concluded and, one by one, the attendees left the room to continue on with their daily business. Hermione had gathered her papers and neatly sheathed them in the folder when she found a hand on her wrist.

"Stay," Bellatrix ordered.

"Bella," Hermione protested. "I have a thousand and one things to do! Some of my diplomats need advice on their approach, there's requests from our member states to evaluate and several dignitaries..."

"As Dark Lady of the Walpurgis Lady, I can and will order all of those people to bugger off," the dark witch waved her hand imperiously. "It's one of the perks of being a dictator, little dove."

"Honestly, Bella," Hermione sighed. "If I don't do this now, the workload will just pile up and..."

"You're cute when you're huffy," Bellatrix laughed. "But, seriously, I want you all to myself and I'm not willing to wait until this evening. Not a day that goes by without you working late."

Hermione sighed and sank back to her seat. "It just feels... good to be useful again. To be working towards peace."

The dark witch lay both hands on her shoulders. "Really, I quite understand the whole perfectionist workaholic thing, but... all work and no play makes Hermione a dull girl. And dull girls make Bellatrix a bored woman."

Hermione sighed. Perhaps she was right. Despite working very hard the past couple of months, she and Bellatrix had continued to grow much closer. Honestly, it had often been the dark witch to drag her out of the office and into the world to spend time together. Hermione honestly enjoyed that; Bellatrix was witty, charming and challenging. Time spent with her was a delight. They were in love, after all, but the importance of her work had become somewhat of a threshold to cross when taking time off to do other things.

"Sssssh," grinned Bellatrix. "That's why you have _me_ , little dove. An irresistible and charming lady to sweep you off your feet and take you to wild and exotic places for the sake of torrid romance to make you forget all about the drudgery of work."

"But..."

"That was a command from the Dark Lady of the Walpurgis Union," replied Bellatrix. "I will not take 'no' for an answer. Do not dare defy me!"

Even though she knew Bellatrix was just being playful, she was very much aware that resistance would not only be futile, but that the dark witch would drag her away by her hair if she kept it up. As such, Hermione resigned to her fate. "What did you have in mind, then?"

"Stroll through the garden?"

"Not exactly wild and exotic," Hermione chuckled. "But certainly romantic."

The fact remained that the both of them had no idea how to be in a healthy relationship. Bellatrix's life had never exactly been normal, nor had any of the few relationships she'd been in, while Hermione had never actually been in a proper relationship having been married to her work since the start of the war. Basically, Hermione felt they were two far-from-conventional people learning how to be a couple together. Of course, they were filling in the gaps with lots and lots of sex, as new couples tended to do. While fun and pleasurable, at the end of the day that could not be the foundation of a lasting relationship.

The gardens, of course, were covered in a blanket of white snow. With a single tap of the wand, the dark witch transfigured both their set of clothes into something warmer. Thick fur sprouted from their long coats and woolly hats and earmuffs appeared on their heads.

The two hooked arms as they walked through the garden, the fresh snow cracking underneath their boots. Snowflakes were gently wafting down while the cold air felt comfortable on Hermione's face. The sky was whitish gray as the two lovers stood at the railing to oversee the bay. St. Petersburg in the far distance was completely obscured by the falling snow.

"You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders," Bellatrix spoke matter-of-factly when she shuffled over to her.

"And _you_ don't?" Hermione replied with an amused smile. "You're trying to turn the wizarding world upside down for the sake of your people, after all."

"From what I've seen, it could use a good shaking about," replied Bellatrix.

"Do you ever have doubts?" Hermione asked.

"Doubts?"

Hermione turned to her, only to see the older woman looking into her eyes with confusion. "Yes, doubts," Hermione replied. "Do you sometimes wonder if you're on the right path or if you've made the right decisions along the way?"

Bellatrix looked away, placing her hands on the railing. "Doubt is not in my nature."

Hermione nodded. It had been a silly question to begin with; Bellatrix had followed Voldemort without question, without doubts. That was how Bellatrix lived her life; when she wanted something, she went for it with all her zeal. All her heart. Bellatrix was nothing if devoted to whatever cause she believed in.

Or person.

"Besides," Bellatrix added. "I'm running the largest empire the wizarding world has ever seen. I can't afford to second-guess myself."

Hermione nodded. "I often do," she spoke sincerely. "Even after a decision has been made. I sometimes lie awake at night thinking if I could have done something differently, or if could have taken a different road. If could have avoided..."

"Alexei's death?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione took in a sharp breath and gave the briefest of nods.

"People die," said Bellatrix. "That is reality."

"It's not just that," said Hermione. "I know my actions for the Walpurgis Union are saving lives, but..."

Bellatrix took her hands, rubbing her fingers through the woolen fabric of their transfigured mittens. "You're here. With me. Do you regret that?"

"No," Hermione said, giving the answer without thinking. The two witches smiled at each other briefly, before Hermione reached out towards Bellatrix's necklace. Holding the tarnished old silver Jackdaw skull-shaped pendant in her hand, she stared at it for a moment. "This necklace. You're always wearing it, even to bed. It's special to you, isn't it?"

Bellatrix smiled for a moment. "It was a gift from my grandfather, Pollux Black. He gave it to me when I cast my first spell. I was three at the time, considered a prodigy. He was so proud. I was told that when I'd have children of my own, I were to pass it along when my firstborn were to cast his or her first spell."

The dark witch sighed for a moment and let the necklace fall down once more. "But children were not in my future, so I kept it myself. When I was imprisoned in that hellhole that is Azkaban, Cissy kept it safe for me, like she did my wand."

Hermione said nothing. She simply wrapped an arm around Bellatrix's waist and lay her head on her shoulder. The dark witch leaned her own head in silence as the both of them watched the snow fall.

"Honestly," said Bellatrix. "I feel like my life is only just beginning."

Yes, this relationship thing was definitely new to both of them, but it was going to be so enjoyable to learn.

* * *

**19th of January 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan Palace throneroom**

Today would be something different for Hermione Granger. Though the preparations for her plan were falling into place, she was about to join Bella on the presentation tour of a soon to be launched air-ship. As always, she wore the face of 'Samantha Morris' whenever she left the palace, her true identity still a closely guarded secret. She had already taken the potion and was waiting for to finish holding court.

All in all, Bellatrix didn't hold court very often. In the many months she had been at the palace, Hermione had never witnessed it. Bellatrix only really held court to dispense justice for certain crimes, such as abuse against magical children and treason. And then only when she felt like it.

Today was one of such days, and Hermione stood behind the curtains of the dressing room near Bellatrix's throne. The throneroom itself was completely filled people from all over the Union whom had come to the palace to hear their Dark Lady speak. Bellatrix herself was looking rather fetching as she sat on her throne in her full regalia; a long black gown with dragon-leather patches and golden embroidery. On her head was a subtle crown made from strings of white pearls woven through her hair. She pursed her blood-red lips and, after finishing her speech, motioned for the guards to let in a prisoner.

The whole affair left a foul taste in Hermione's mouth. The crowd cursed and jeered as the prisoner was led into the room in chains. He was a small, thin man who was obviously terrified to be here. From the bruises on his face and his nasty limp, it was obvious that the man had been heinously mistreated during his captivity.

"So," Bellatrix snorted. "Who's the first layabout on the list?"

More cheers and jeers followed, causing Hermione to shift in unease. The guard gave the man a shove, causing him to fall forward on his knees while the weight of the chains kept him grounded. Bellatrix raised her hand and the crowd immediately fell silent. The bailiff stepped forward.

"Dark Lady," he spoke with a booming voice. "This man stands of accused of spreading lies and sedition to undermine your rightful rulership. He has admitted to writing a pamphlet for the Samizdat circle."

Gasps went through the gathered audience. Hermione had heard of the Samizdat circle before. Decades ago, there was a muggle-group of intellectuals who, during the soviet era, spread uncensored texts and illegal political pamphlets by passing them by hand in secret. A group of Walpurgis dissidents were doing the same under Bellatrix's rule. Thankfully, the Walpurgis Union was relatively lenient on possession as people usually got off with a fine and possibly some community service. Hell, even Artyom had a few in the palace library as an official part of the collection. But penalties for spreading them or, worse yet, writing them were exceedingly harsh. As was evidenced by this poor man being dragged in front of Bellatrix.

"Ah, yes," said Bellatrix as she took a pamphlet from the bailiff and leaved through it. "You stand accused of being the writer of 'Voice of the People; the rapid decline of the democratic process in the Walpurgis Union'."

Immediately, a wave of indignant shouts came from the audience. Bellatrix, to her credit, quickly silenced them with a wave from her hand. "Now, now," Bellatrix spoke up. "This man might have had a perfectly legitimate reason to write this seditious pile of shite. Let's give him a chance. Now then, to your feet."

The man raised himself. "B-begging your pardon, my Dark Lady. I... I meant..."

"Yesssss?" Bellatrix raised her eyebrows.

"I am Osip Volkov, my Lady," said the man. "Yes, I wrote that pamphlet. Don't get me wrong, I love the Walpurgis Union. I follow the vision you have for the wizarding world. But... for reasons laid out in the pamphlet, I think you're taking it in the wrong direction."

"Ah," Bellatrix nodded. Hermione could see from her expression that she was toying with the man. There would no good outcome here; the dark witch had already made up her mind and was merely batting around her prey before going in for the killing blow. "Dear people, this man thinks I am wrong! Pray tell, how am I wrong, hm?"

Osip, to his credit, kept his head held high in the face of adversity. "You preach freedom, but you suppress any ideas that are contrary to your own. The voice of the people is being torn down bit by bit as the war continues, replaced with empty promises that some form of democracy will return after the war ends. It is clear as day that this entire war has escalated beyond anyone's control. Even yours! Is it disloyalty to be worried for the good people of the Walpurgis Union?"

Oh, that hit a sore point. Hermione closed her eyes; that was one inconvenient truth which Bellatrix could never let slide by the wayside.

"You call this political criticism?" Bellatrix trembled with rage. "I call it shitting on the brave men and women on the front lines in our army who fight for your freedom to spout your bollocks! I call it shitting on every wizard and witch dedicated to our cause! I call it shitting on those who died for the Walpurgis Union!"

The crowd roared loudly. _'Shame! Shame!'_. "Dear people," said Bellatrix, addressing her adoring crowd. "This man thinks my approach to rulership and our noble war is the wrong one. So, tell me. What do you think?"

The gathered crowd's cheers were loud and unanimous, ending with loud chanting of Bellatrix's name. The dark witch basked in her own glory and, after motioning the crowd to fall silent, turned to Osip. "And here, my dear fellow, we see democracy at work. The will of the people seems rather clear to me."

Osip stammered slightly. "B-but... I..."

"I find your timing rather suspicious!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "There's been reports of Alliance propagandists having infiltrated several of our major cities. And what you've written sounds suspiciously like Alliance talking points. Prove to me that you are not a Nixie sympathizer!"

Osip gulped. "H-how… how can I prove a negative?!"

Bellatrix slammed her fists on the armrests of her throne before rising up and shouting loudly. "Perhaps a decade or two in Nurmengard will help you figure that out! Take him away! Out of my sight!"

The crowd once again cheered while Hermione felt bile creep up from her stomach. She sat back in the dressing room numbly when she barely heard Bellatrix addressing the crowd a few moments more. A few minutes later and it was over. When Hermione looked up, she found a rather self-satisfied looking Bellatrix entering the dressing room. "Ah, there you are, little dove," she smirked. "I was impressive, wasn't I?"

Hermione said nothing at first. She slowly rose from her seat and felt her body tremble with rage. "What..." she hissed. "Was that?!"

Bellatrix, for her part, seemed rather confused while she started to unravel the pearls from her hair. "You don't like my dress?"

"It's not the dress!" shouted Hermione. "It's what you just did to that poor man! You call that justice?! That was show trial! That... that was a travesty!"

Bellatrix frowned. "I can see you're upset."

"Upset doesn't begin to describe it!" Hermione shouted. "Loyalty and being critical are not mutually exclusive! All that poor man did was to write a pamphlet questioning the political climate in the Union!"

"And that's exactly the thing we can't use right now!" Bellatrix snarled back. "We cannot afford to look weak in front of the Alliance! The man is a dissident and was treated as such! And don't presume to lecture me on the treatment of the politically deviant, my little dove! I am well aware dissidents aren't welcome in the Alliance either."

Hermione swallowed hard, her voice wavering. "That's different. I... I..." she started to say, but immediately knew anything she'd say wouldn't fall in line with reality.

"Is it really?" replied Bellatrix while crossing her arms. "Lovegood keeps me well informed about the goings-on in the Alliance. You might not have imprisoned them, but how many did you drive to poverty to silence their voices after destroying someone's good name or ruining a livelihood or two?"

Hermione lowered her head as her anger ebbed away. "I know," she whispered softly. "I've always known."

"And what did you do then, hm?" Bellatrix pressed. "Did you barge into Snape's office to protest? Did you threaten to resign?"

The young witch's shame was complete. "No," she spoke so softly it was almost a whimper.

"Of course you didn't. Because you are not only idealistic, but also smart and pragmatic. Because you knew if you lost your job, you wouldn't be in any position to do good works. I am doing the same thing; if I need to condemn one person to keep dissenting voices quiet at a crucial time, I will do it without hesitation. If this plan of yours is to work, we need to project our strength."

Hermione nodded silently. "It's still wrong," she said. "I understand the pragmatism, but..."

"You're young," said Bellatrix as she sat down next to Hermione, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll reduce his sentence to one year. We'll review the cases of other political dissenters we've locked up in Nurmengard after the war has ended. The good thing about being a dictator is that I can change my mind."

Hermione smiled briefly. "Then I will endeavor to end it quickly. As if I needed another incentive."

"Come," said Bellatrix. "Let's take a look at that flying barge, then."

* * *

**19th of January 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Nesterov Military Airfield**

By the time they arrived at the airfield, Hermione had mostly recovered from her experience at the palace. Spending some time with Bella would get the cobwebs out of her head for a bit.

She had never actually been to this airfield, but she had read that this was the place where most of the Walpurgis Union's infamous airships were repaired, serviced and built. What she saw defied description. Hundreds of wizards were running around servicing at least a dozen of docked airships while even more were under construction in specialized hangars. This was one of the most secure areas of the entire Walpurgis Union. And for good reason; if the Alliance were to ever strike this airfield, they would deal a mortal blow to the Union's military.

The fleet consisted mostly of airships which were strange and wondrous amalgams of old-style zeppelins and wooden sailing ships hanging underneath the bullet-shaped balloon. But today the thing they were about to inspect was located in one massive hangar.

When Hermione entered the hangar with Bellatrix, her jaw almost dropped to the ground. Outwardly, the airship seemed much like the older designs, but it was bigger. A _lot_ bigger. The given term 'dreadnought' more than applied. The massive silver balloon holding the airship afloat towered over them. It looked a lot more like a classic zeppelin than a wooden ship with a balloon strapped to the top. The image of the Hindenburg came to her mind, but the Valkyrie was easily three times the size.

Bellatrix's bodyguards led them to the undercarriage of the airship where the construction crew was gathered and stood at attention. The men and women were nervous, that much was easy to see. They wanted their dark lady to be pleased with their work. The lead engineer and designer, a small and rotund man with a monocle and a very nervous disposition took a few steps forward.

Truth be told, Hermione felt sorry for the man; now that she and Bella were lovers, she treated her a lot better. But the fact that she was nicer to Hermione didn't mean she treated _everybody else_ better. Hermione knew that the moment Bellatrix smelled fear, she would pounce.

Hermione turned to her lover, whom had dressed up for the occasion. Bella was stunningly beautiful. Dark eye-shadow, blood red lipstick while dark curly tresses cascaded over her porcelain skin and the black fabric of her dress.

"My lady Black," the engineer dipped. "Yuri Volkov, at your service. It is a great honor to have you be the first and foremost guest to inspect our work. We are certain that you will be pleased."

Bellatrix's reaction was swift and merciless. "Don't presume!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Whether or not I will be pleased depends entirely on your presentation and the end result of your work. This dreadnought certainly cost us enough to demand the very best!"

Hermione winced when she saw the worried glances among the construction crew. "Lady Black," said Hermione, by the way she usually addressed Bellatrix in public. "Might I suggest we give the crew a chance to prove themselves?"

Bellatrix turned to her and fell silent. "Very well," she spoke. "Let's see this ship of yours."

"Welcome to the WUA Valkyrie," spoke Yuri. "The first of her class. Materials in her construction were produced by many nations of the Union, making this project a true joint effort. May she bring you great victories, Lady Black."

' _Ouch, that was a bit too rehearsed_ ', thought Hermione and found it confirmed when she saw a bored Bellatrix already inspecting her freshly manicured nails. The fact that Yuri was already trembling didn't help either.

"Perhaps," Hermione broke in, hoping to change the subject. "You could tell us something about the Valkyrie's capabilities?"

"Ah, yes," said Yuri. "As you can see, she's a completely new design. As you know, our regular cruisers are simply classic style sailing vessels with a balloon strapped to it. The biggest threat to our airships are aerial assaults by broom, making the crew vulnerable. You'll recall that the WUA Courage was lost with all hands when Nixie commandos on brooms managed to cut all of the supports keeping the ship attached to the balloon."

' _Ouch, that's still a sore-point for Bella_ ,' Hermione thought at this second faux-pas. Bellatrix's expression was not a happy one and that only made Yuri more nervous.

"As you can see, the sizable undercarriage is attached directly the balloon itself. This entire ship is a closed environment, fully shielded and secured with several of the most powerful protective wards. Both the balloon and the undercarriage can withstand prolonged assaults from even the most expertly cast Bombarda Maximus," said Yuri. "Aside from the obvious safety to the crew and troops on board, this closed environment will also allow the Valkyrie to reach much higher altitudes than the rest of our fleet. The larger size of the balloon means an increased capacity of total weight carried and though some mobility has been sacrificed, the streamlined design of the dreadnought keeps this within an acceptable minimum.

"Hm, indeed," drawled Bellatrix. To her relief, Hermione saw that the dark witch was regaining interest.

Yuri noticed it too, and happily led the both of them inside the undercarriage through a broad set of collapsible stairs. The interior of the undercarriage was reasonably luxurious, even if the ceiling was a little low. The entrance gave way to a set of stairs leading up and narrow corridors led to either side of the undercarriage. Yuri politely indicated that both women should follow him into the corridor. "The undercarriage has four decks. The lowest deck is the gun deck. There are thirty-two magically enhanced self-loading cannons on either side for broadsiding with a coverage of 120 degrees in the facing direction. Furthermore, there is a deployable broom-launch platform on either side. Lastly, a set of five bomb-bays can drop our mobile portkeys on target with 99.1% accuracy."

As the three of them walked through the open area containing both the cannons and the bomb-bays, Bellatrix turned to him with narrowed eyes. "You really couldn't squeeze out another .9%? What am I even paying you for? So close and yet you gave up right before the finish line."

"Well, uhm," Yuri stammered. "Considering the average higher altitude..."

"I'm sure that 99.1% is more reliable than most of the equipment our soldiers are given, no?" Hermione broke in.

Bellatrix made a face. "You are simply too much of a soft-heart, 'Samantha'," Bellatrix huffed while Yuri led them to the deck above.

"Deck three contains facilities for troop transport," said Yuri. Indeed, there were plenty of little rooms for the battle-wizards to bunk in, as well as facilities for washing up and recreation. Though the rooms and corridors were still tiny, the design was so that it made the most efficient use of the space. "The Valkyrie can carry twice as many troops as any regular vessel and for a longer period of time, making the dreadnought class perfect for long-term and covert missions."

While Yuri was speaking, Bellatrix sauntered over to one of the support beams and let her fingers slide over the painted metal. "I don't like this color," said Bellatrix harshly.

"Uhm, e-excuse me?" stammered Yuri with trembling lips.

' _Oh, lord'_ , Hermione mentally face-palmed.

"This color!" snarled Bellatrix while twisting around and glaring at poor Yuri. "It's gray, drab and I don't like it. Make it less depressing!"

"I, uh, I suppose we can repaint them blue," Yuri stammered.

"BLUE?!"

"Red! Did I say blue? I meant to say red! We all know the red ones go faster."

Bellatrix's only response was an angry snarl.

"Black?" Yuri asked carefully.

Bellatrix nodded in approval and a relieved Yuri led them to the next deck. Hermione could see that this was a bit more of a luxurious area of the ship. Windows were bigger, corridors were wider and there was actual carpeting. "Deck two contains crew and passenger quarters, as well as the ship's galley, a mess-hall and the cargo area. At the front of the deck is a beautiful promenade for a wonderful view of the skies."

Indeed, the quarters, while still tiny, were considerably larger than the troop bunks downstairs. The most impressive was the promenade; one large window facing forward with several seats and tables. Hermione was certain that the view would be spectacular when the ship was airborne.

Bellatrix, however, well less than happy. "This carpet is filthy!" the dark witch crossed her arms and stared down Yuri. "Look at all those boot prints. If you weren't done with the construction work why did you even have the carpet laid?""

Immediately, an almost hyperventilating Yuri practically fell to his knees. "Please, do forgive me, Lady Black. We will have the carpet scourgified completely for the launch. That we didn't for your visit... is an oversight. Please, we don't mean any disrespect."

Again Hermione shook her head. Poor Yuri stumbled right into every trap Bellatrix set for him. "Bellatrix, this ship is still under construction and our visit was announced only an hour before."

"Hm, excuses, excuses," Bellatrix huffed. "Onward."

"Finally, Deck one," said Yuri as he led them up the stairs. "The command deck."

They stood in a large conning area with plenty of windows, control consoles and a rather large rudder in front of the main window. Several conference tables were set up which would magically display the map and the field of battle as the ship would travel. "From here, all aspects of the ship can be controlled, both in relations to travel as well as internal controls. The bridge also serves as a war room and a communications hub, allowing for the quick issuing of commands to units on the ground and in the air. The Valkyrie is designed to be used as a mobile command center."

For once, Bellatrix was silent as she inspected one of the magic maps and probed it with her wand. Apparently satisfied, the dark witch offered no comments, which was undoubtedly a relief for poor Yuri. The next area to visit was what seemed to be a luxurious state-room containing several divans, an oaken desk, several plants and the symbol of the Walpurgis Union weaved into the carpet in front of the desk. Several paintings hung from the wall, and from this angle through an open door she could see a lovely double-bed in a private area beyond.

"Hm, is this the captain's quarters?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, no," said Yuri. "The captain and officers have rooms on the opposite side of the corridor, but room was especially designed for Lady Black alone. We were told that the Valkyrie might be used as your personal mobile command center in combat. So we decided to give you a private quarters worthy of you. I... I hope you are pleased."

Hermione was half expecting another quip about something trivial, but Bellatrix's expression softened somewhat. "I am genuinely impressed by what I've seen today. You and your team should be proud of what you've built," said the dark witch while raising her chin imperiously. Even when giving compliments, Bellatrix always had to be fully in charge.

Hermione had never seen a frown turn into a smile quite as fast. After saying he would convey her compliments to the rest of the crew, Bellatrix demanded some privacy and left the two of them standing in the private quarters.

"You were toying with him," Hermione sighed while shaking her head.

"Of course. I've got to get my jollies somehow now that you've been so busy as of late," Bellatrix spoke the word, accompanied by a pout which wouldn't look out of place on the face of a four-year old whom had just been denied a sweet. "Also, I'm sick and tired of 'Samantha Morris'. I want to lay eyes on the face of the girl who stole my heart."

Hermione shrugged and took a pouch from her satchel. "Why not?" she spoke. "This place is top secret and I have another two vials of polyjuice on me anyway."

The young witch took a vial of potion meant to cancel out her polyjuice disguise, removed the cork and drank it down. Immediately, she felt the rather uncomfortable feeling of her skin stretching, her hair pulling and her bone-structure shifting. Samantha Morris once again became Hermione Granger.

"That's my girl," grinned Bellatrix while wrapping her arms around her. "Always prepared."

Their lips touched, their bodies pressed together. It was a such a good feeling. Hermione had never really considered herself to be a particularly pretty girl, but for some reason the fact that Bellatrix refused to kiss her while she was polyjuiced was something she regarded as a great compliment. Hermione nearly swooned when their lips parted and their tongues touched. Bellatrix was such a wonderful kisser.

"Hm," said Bellatrix after breaking the kiss but not the embrace. Together, they sat down on one of the sofa's near a large porthole. "Nice to see you try to play the diplomat back there. You were ruining all my fun, though."

"Someone had to protect that poor man's fragile ego from the evil wicked witch who was crushing it with her bare hand," Hermione smirked. It earned her another kiss.

"Hm," frowned Bellatrix. "Come to think, I never did ask how you became a diplomat. Is there a story to tell?"

Hermione leaned into her lover, prompting the dark witch to lay her head on her shoulder. A mass dark curly soft hair with a lovely smell of scented shampoo was pressed against her cheek. "I sort of fell into it. There was a dispute between two unit commanders during the start of the war. I happened to be on the grounds at the time for an inspection tour on behalf of the Ministry during the first months of the war. I listened to their grievances, made inventory of their needs and, based on what was available at the time, offered them a solution both could live with. This was noticed by the right people in the Ministry and the rest is history."

"And that's the whole reason?"

"Well," said Hermione. "My reputation for helping to bring down Voldemort did help a lot. I wanted to do my bit for the war effort. I might not be a warrior, a spy or an infiltrator. But I can research, analyze situations and bring people together. It's a skill I've improved upon as I was given tougher and bigger assignments."

"Hm," Bellatrix chuckled. "Mudbloods do have their uses after all."

That got Hermione's attention. "God, are we _still_ on about that? I thought we were past that point, Bella."

"What?" pouted Bellatrix, trying to look innocent by putting her finger to her lips and biting on the tip. "That was a compliment. You have obviously transcended the inferiority of your feeble blood."

Hermione blinked, her mouth hanging open. "How is that a compliment?!" Hermione demanded with an angry tone. "In what parallel universe could anyone ever construe that as something that is even remotely nice to say?!"

Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "You know what I think, Hermione?"

"What?!" Hermione demanded angrily.

A wry chuckle sounded. "Oh, little dove, I think you're the one with hang-ups on blood purity and not me."

"Oh, come on!" replied Hermione. "You just said something incredibly bigoted to your own girlfriend and you expect me to..."

"Think about it!" Bellatrix interrupted. "I am the one whom has broadened her horizons. I am the one willing to accept that mudbloods can be very competent. Yet you immediately bring the focus back to perceived inferiority. Classic projection there, little dove. Classic inferiority complex. No need to thank me for bringing this truth to light, my little Hermione."

"Thank you?!" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea how... and... you are completely pulling my leg, aren't you?"

The dark witch let out a girlish giggle and clapped her hands in merriment. "Oh, you are _such_ an easy target!"

"Yes," Hermione sank back onto the sofa and probably looked a bit sour, no doubt. "Let's all laugh at the funny joke. Have a chuckle at Hermione Granger's expense."

"Awww," Bellatrix mock-pouted while laying a hand on her cheek, gently rubbing the soft skin with her thumb. "Aww, don't be sour now. All that work and no play makes Hermione a dull girl… and Bellatrix a bored one."

That made Hermione laugh. "I'll give you one thing. You are dangerous when you're bored. Things tend to explode."

"Besides," Bellatrix's pout never wavered. "You're spending more time with stuffy people in stuffy rooms than with me. What's a poor woman to think, hm? I received a letter from your little sister complaining that you don't visit enough. What shall I tell her, hm?"

"Tell her I will have all the time in the world for those I love once the peace treaty has been signed," Hermione smiled warmly.

"I don't think that'll cut it," said Bellatrix. "Ophelia mentioned a fifth birthday party in her letter."

Hermione blinked. "Oh, bother. I completely forgot. I still need to buy her a gift."

Bellatrix put one hand on her hip and another to her lips as she adopted a thoughtful expression. "She did include a few suggestions. I'm not sure what an 'iPod' is, but she sure seems eager to have one."

The young witch leaned against the desk, shaking her head. "An iPod? I'm not made of money. She'll have to made do with a teddybear."

That made Bellatrix laugh. "So. What do you think of the Valkryie then?"

"I am impressed by the ingenuity of the design, but I am very much aware that it might end up being used against people I care about."

"Well, whatever happens, having this thing in the air patrolling the skies should give any would-be invader pause. If your plan works out well, we might have it do double duty as a cruise-liner, though. Might recoup some of the development cost, even."

"I would love to take a cruise on the Valkyrie with you," said Hermione. "I bet the view from the observation lounge is spectacular."

"Oh," chuckled Bellatrix while her arms snaked around her waist. "We'll have the best cabin on the ship. And _my_ view of the bed will be much nicer when you'll be in it."


	19. Enjoy the Silence

**21st of January 2004 – London England – Diagon Alley, The Leaky Cauldron**

Harry always loved coming to the Leaky Cauldron. Long ago, this cozy little pub had been his first introduction to the world of magic and, as such, had always held a special place in his heart.

The place was packed and, after greeting Hannah, waded through the crowd looking for Ron. Apparently, his ginger friend had spotted him and stated to wave him over. Harry was soon seated next to him on a stool and holding a pint.

"Good to see you, mate," Ron asked. "When did you get back from down under?"

Harry let out a sigh. Even though he had been to Australia exactly once before, that was enough for Intelligence to consider him an expert on Australia and its customs. Honestly, to him, that greatly explained why diplomatic relations with Australia had fallen to this level of crisis.

"This morning," said Harry. "It's an utter mess in Australia. I can't really mention too much of the details here in public, but there's a lot more going on than you'll read about in the papers."

"That bad, huh?" Ron chuckled.

"Australia is going to leave the Phoenix Alliance. It's pretty much a done deal. It's just a matter of when," said Harry. Truth be told, he had seen no other outcome. After Phoenix Alliance officials had been exposed trying to either bribe or threaten high level Australian Ministry officials in secret, it was all over.

"Hm, good on them," said Ron. "Mind you, I'm a bit torn about it. Sure, I want this war to end, but I don't want Bellatrix steamrolling all over us either."

"I get that," said Harry after taking a sip from his ale. "The Wallies are giving Australia a wide berth. There's been no cross-overs from New Zealand as far as we can tell. Bellatrix is probably enjoying a quiet chuckle over our political mishap."

"Oh, hey, congratulations on your promotion," said Ron. "Intelligence consultant? I'm surprised they even let you in through the door. You're not exactly sneaky, subtle or particularly clever."

That caused Harry to frown. "Gee, thanks a lot, Ron. Ladies and gentlemen, my best friend Ronald Weasley..."

The goofy grin on Ron's face was all the reward he needed. At least his friend was doing a lot better. "Oi, who other to tell you the awful wicked honest truth than your very own mate Ron? Need I remind you that you flew a dragon straight through the stadium seatings?"

"That was the dragon's fault, not mine!" Harry protested with a smirk. "Honestly, Ron, what have you been up to?"

Ron pointed at a trunk to his feet. He reached down to open it up, revealing a series of costumes, make-up and all sorts of magical joke objects from his brother's store. "I've been helping out George in the store and we had this idea to put up charity shows for young children who have lost a loved one in the war. It was such a success that we're doing it four times a week now. I'm usually the straight man to George's antics and we always manage to blow something up. But, damn, making children happy and helping them forget about their troubles has made me feel better about myself than I have in years."

After adjusting his glasses, Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder. "It's good to see you're doing better. I was getting worried about you."

"Nah, mate," Ron chuckled. "Gits like me always land on their feet. The joke shop is doing well; I guess there's a big market for humor in times of trouble. Say, anything in that intelligence office say anything about Hermione? You _have_ looked, right?"

He was right. Harry _had_ looked. The file they had on Hermione was pretty much empty from the time after her disappearance; she wasn't kidding when she said she'd do her best to remain hidden. Of course, wizarding intelligence basically knew nothing about the Muggle world, making it much easier for a Muggle-born like Hermione to remain completely hidden. The only thing he could hope for was that the interpol investigation were to turn up something; all he could do was wait.

"It's the little sister, right?" Ron smiled. "Yeah, I get that. Not wanting to risk her family getting torn apart over a barmy law thought up by cretinous blockheads. Though... you'd think she'd at least trust _us._ "

And that was the crux of the matter. Hermione's reasoning to remain hidden was perfectly clear and logical to Harry. But... Hermione must have known that Harry and Ron would never betray her trust. Hermione had to be certain that her friends would protect her no matter what. So why hadn't she contacted them yet? Especially considering Hermione had found her family months ago. Why had she not sent even the simplest of notes?

Maybe he was worried about nothing. Maybe...

"She does trust us, Ron," said Harry. "She has to."

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "I just wonder where she is. What she's doing right now, you know? I hope she's alright."

* * *

**21st of January 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix's private bathroom**

Bellatrix stretched as she lay partially submerged in the gigantic bubbly bathtub. Some years back, when she had first claimed Buyan Palace as her own, the place had needed a big renovation. She had debated with herself if she should have the bath, which was about the size of a small indoor swimming poor, restored at all. But seeing she only had a bucket for about fourteen years, the need to compensate with consummate luxury usually won out.

Bellatrix spread her arms on the edge of the bath while throwing her head back. A blissful moan escaped her half-open mouth while she closed her eyes and allowed her breath to quicken. A lustful chuckle sounded just before her back arched involuntary and a tremor went through her body, wonderful sensations shooting from her abdomen to the tips of her fingers and toes. When she lay back panting, the second occupant of the bath came to the surface.

Hermione, having made excellent use of the bubble-head charm, much resembled a seductive siren of ancient times. A sultry smile was on her face when she threw her head back, letting her long wet brown hair fly through the air and slap down onto her back. Trickles of water rang down her creamy and delicious skin.

Ah, yes, it was the prim and proper girls whom could be the most deliciously naughty of all.

Hermione stood in the bath, it being deep enough for the water to reach the underside of her ribs. Bellatrix was fully aware that the girl was a bit self-conscious about her body, but really didn't see the why of it. The girl was perfectly gorgeous and every bit delectable as she waded her way to the seat built in the side of the tub. Her body pressed against hers as the girl lay her head on her shoulder.

"Hmmm," grinned the dark witch. "Aren't you happy I dragged you out of whatever silly thing you were involved in for some relaxation?"

"Hmmm," sounded from Hermione as she had closed her eyes. The girl had a blush on her cheeks and looked close to falling asleep. "That 'whatever silly thing'," Hermione had her eyes closed while whispering so softly it hardly sounded louder that the bubbling of the water. "Is making peace in the wizarding world. Not such a little whatever silly thing."

"All work and no play..."

"... makes Hermione a dull girl," Hermione finished. "I know, you said it before."

"I love it when you play with me," Bellatrix let the none-too-subtle double-entrendre slide over her tongue while her hand slowly caressed the girl's side until it rested on her hip. Without a doubt, Hermione Granger was one of her greatest conquests. She had managed to turn one of the golden trio to her side, one of the three whom had brought down her former lord. And the best thing yet? The girl was hers and hers alone. She made her feel like she had never felt before; Bellatrix even dared to think there was finally someone whom she could share her wealth and power with as an equal. Though sometimes naive, Hermione Granger's intellect, drive and heart was undeniable.

Best yet, it would give her and her people a way out of this endless stalemate, if her plan would work. Bellatrix was no fool; the war was unwinnable and all either side could do was to prevent the other from expanding. Hermione was set to secure what Bellatrix wanted most; recognition and sovereignty for the Walpurgis Union and a reprieve for her tired and battle-weary people.

Bellatrix gritted her teeth as she could already feel the pain coming. She had gotten good at predicting her attacks now that they came far more frequently. Her body went rigid in preparation, she lay her head back and tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

Agony exploded through her head. Indescribable images and impossible sounds filled her vision and hearing. Careful not to let out a cry or a grunt, Bellatrix squinted her eyes shut and bit down, after making sure her tongue hadn't gotten in the way of her jaw. As the seemingly endless pain washed over her, she fought to keep the tears from coming forth. The familiar feeling of her head about to explode washed over her and expanded through her body. Pain. Endless pain.

As the feelings started to subside, she panted slightly. Honestly, this one wasn't as bad; she had the idea that she was becoming more resistant to these attacks now that they came more and more often. Thankfully, the girl hadn't noticed as she still lay her head on her shoulder.

Just then, a blissfully unaware Hermione shifted and rolled on top of her. The position they were in was a little awkward, as the underwater bench was slanted and the side of the tub pressed hard in her back, but the girl managed to drape herself over her. Bellatrix spread her legs a little so Hermione could embrace her more tightly. Abdomen pressed against abdomen as Hermione lay a hand on her breast, lovingly kneading it while Bellatrix wrapped her arms around her waist to prevent any escape.

A low chuckle sounded just before their lips met for a loving kiss.

Hers. Hermione Granger was all hers. All hers and hers alone. Merlin, love was indeed much more fun when feelings were reciprocated. Despite all the prejudices she had grown up in, Bellatrix no longer cared that Hermione was someone she was supposed to despise for the inferior blood running through her veins. Indeed, Hermione Granger was a mudblood. But she was _her_ mudblood.

The girl whimpered as Bellatrix caught her lower lip with her teeth and carefully, playfully nibbled and tugged right before their tongues met once again. Ah, yes, Hermione was an apt and eager pupil and had mastered the art of the kiss. But... there was still much for her learn and much for Bellatrix to teach her.

"Who do you belong too?" Bellatrix whispered in Hermione's ear between kisses.

"You," Hermione whispered back.

"Who do you love more than anyone you have ever loved before?"

"You," Hermione whispered, a shudder rocking her body when Bellatrix's long nails raked down the length of her spine.

"You are mine," Bellatrix husked. "You are for me to keep and to love."

It was then when Hermione pressed down to pin the dark witch underneath her, grinning as she did so. "As long as you realize that you belong as much to me as I do to you, hm?"

"Always," Bellatrix grinned as she leaned in for another kiss. The two witches were about to disappear underneath the water with a double bubble-head charm when the door to the bathroom flew open and a woman nonchalantly strolled inside holding an easel in one hand and a large thin carrying folder under her other arm.

The moment Hermione noticed the intruder, she let out a yelp, threw herself away from the dark witch and disappeared underneath the water. Bellatrix turned her head and noticed it was actually Birgit.

"Oh, that time already?" Bellatrix kept an eye on the clock while wading towards the edge of the tub. She lay her arms on the edge while floating as Birgit was setting up her easel. Birgit Ostlund was her master of propaganda and she and her team had designed most of the posters adorning the cities of the Walpurgis Union, as well as the flyers which were regularly apparated over enemy territory. Birgit was a Swedish Muggle-born in her early thirties whom had had a private education in things magical while going to Muggle university to study communication and marketing. And if there was one thing Bellatrix had learned over the course of the war, it was that Muggle-borns had their uses. Birgit came highly recommended when the Walpurgis Union was first established.

While Birgit was setting up, Bellatrix reached down into the water and felt around until she caught Hermione's shoulder. After dragging her up, a red-faced Hermione emerged head-only to the height of her eyes. "It's just Birgit," said Bellatrix. "I've asked her to seek me out to show me some drafts for the new campaign. I guess we took too long in the bath."

"You did say I should seek you out," spoke Birgit with a soft Swedish accent, bemusement clear on her voice. "Also, don't drown, Hermione. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Hermione, for her part, was seemingly beyond embarrassment. Oh, so endearing it was to see her almost submerged with her nose barely above the water while her eyes darted across the room and her cheeks were as crimson as the average red beet. The dark witch grinned and gently pushed her towards the edge of the tub. "Oh, come now, you big baby."

Her young girlfriend was still decidedly uncomfortable, but seemingly felt a little safer now that there was a thin wall between Birgit and her naked body.

The drafts were well worked out and gave an indication how the final release candidates would look like. The first poster was one of herself upper-body only, looking stern and pointing directly at the viewer.

"Hm, do I have to be on every single one of these?" Bellatrix asked.

"Yes," said Birgit. "Your visage is a powerful one and your presence in the streets belies your importance."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes in response. "I'd think my people'd get sick of me. Hell, I'd get sick of me. As for the poster, this one is rather tacky."

Hermione frowned as she cocked her head sideways to get a better look at the poster. "Is that… Uncle Sam Needs You?"

Though the dark witch didn't exactly know what Hermione was talking about, from her words she could tell that the current poster was somehow derivative.

"It's a variant, yes," said Birgit while rover over the poster with a muggle thing Birgit called a 'laser-pointer' . "Antonin keeps saying we need more volunteers to stem the tide, and the Uncle Sam campaign during the second World War has been a very effective one."

"Hmmm," Bellatrix shook her head. "I don't like it. Next!"

The next poster produced was one of herself standing among a group of people in a wizarding village. They were normal civilians, not soldiers. Families with their children, shopkeepers, teachers. Her own visage had raised her wand high in a tightly clenched fist while three jackdaws flew over her head. The words ' _The future of the Walpurgis Union depends on you!'_ were written underneath the potion.

"This poster is meant to put emphasis on the support roles rather than the soldiers. It'll be a good boost of morale for the men and women in our factories making potions, wands, brooms, armor and portkeys for the war effort," said Birgit. "The symbolism of the fist holding a wand is both a subtle reference to both you through your family crest and the steadfast resolve of the people of the Walpurgis Union."

"Hm," she said. "The three jackdaws might be laying it on a bit thick and that one to the right looks like it's about to shit on my head. Still, I do like this one."

Next to her, Hermione shifted. "Honestly, I've always liked your posters better than Philly the Fighting Phoenix whom they put in every Alliance campaign. Really, that stupid cartoon has really overstayed its welcome."

Bellatrix could only agree. A stupid cartoon could hardly inspire, but she knew Snivellus didn't like the idea of his face being on every poster; perhaps a left-over from his double-dealing treacherous ways. Still, she herself had never had qualms about allowing her noble visage to be spread to every corner of the globe, even though she was getting a bit sick of it now.

"It's still a bit too idolized, I feel," she said, feeling the need to criticize. "I know propaganda is supposed to convey an ideal image, but honestly I haven't had a waistline like that since I was nineteen."

When Bellatrix turned her head, she found a smiling Hermione looking her right in the eye. "I see nothing wrong with your waistline, Bella."

There was sincerity on her voice, and to her own surprise Bellatrix felt rather giddy about the compliment. "You sweet, sweet thing," the dark witch smiled, pulled her girl towards her and kissed her forehead.

A bit of a faux-pas, it seemed, as Hermione quickly blushed and trembled; her girl really didn't like public affection. Birgit, however, didn't seem to mind all that much. "Aww, you two are just so cute together," she smiled and opened her portfolio folder to produce a new poster. "This is something I've been working on the side. It's not meant to be used in this campaign, but it's just something I wanted to get out of my system."

The couple watched with interest as Birgit set up and revealed a lovely stylistic aquarel poster. A faceless woman who was obviously Bellatrix dominated the poster, amid cheering people praising her name. Next to her, however, leaning against her, was a faceless brown-haired girl. Even though the women had blank faces, the feelings they had for each other were more than obvious. Indeed, it was a lovely poster and a true shame that it would likely never see circulation.

Turning to her girl, she could see the conflict in her expression. "Bella," started Hermione. "There'll be a point in the future where I would have to reveal herself for who I am. A lot of people I care about will have questions."

"You're talking about _them_ , aren't you?"

"They'll understand," said Hermione. "They _have_ to."

From the tone of voice, it was clear that Hermione was less than sure of herself. "Well," said Bellatrix with a grin. "Just tell them ' _Yes, I am snogging Bellatrix Black, and it is fantastic!'_. They'll understand why you defected. My kisses are heavenly and irresistible, after all."

That made Hermione giggle. "Arrogant..."

"What you see as arrogance, I see as a matter of accuracy in self-assessment," Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously. "Besides, it won't matter if your plan works out and the war ends. We'll be..."

Bellatrix froze when she felt it coming, but not quite believed it. Attacks never came this close together, after all. Again, her body wracked with agony as her splitting headache came back much stronger than the one she had earlier. More images she couldn't understand, more sounds she couldn't decipher and far more pain than she could handle. She thrashed in the water while gritting her teeth, digging her fingers into the plaster of the side of the tub. It wasn't until half a minute later when she realized she was letting out an agonized wail while a very worried Hermione and Birgit had rushed to her side.

"Bella!" Hermione held her by the arm to prevent her from slipping underneath the water while the dark witch was trying to steady her breathing, hissing through clenched teeth. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"Should I find a healer?" asked Birgit.

Slowly feeling her senses return, Bellatrix forced herself to relax. "No," she hissed through her teeth while rubbing her throbbing head. "I... I just stubbed my little toe. Nothing serious."

"Hm," smiled an obviously relieved Hermione. "Who's being a big baby now, hm?"

Bellatrix ignored the barb, but did feel the urge to get out of the tub in case of another attack. "Let's get out before we prune," Bellatrix suggested.

"Sounds good," said Birgit. "I have more to show you. I'll set up in your office and we can go over the rest of the posters."

After Birgit left, closing the door behind her, Hermione slipped out of the bath to fetch the both of them some towels. "Bella?" she asked after taking her hand and helping her get out. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"It'll pass," said Bellatrix. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what these attacks were, but she had no time for them anyway. There was an Empire to run and a war to be won, after all. Bellatrix Black wouldn't be stopped by a bit of pain... or even a lot of pain.

* * *

**22nd of January 2004 – Paris, France – French Ministry of Magic, executive level**

"Honestly," spoke the French minister with a thick accent. "What did you expect me to do?!"

Snape, whom had claimed his office and now sat in his very chair, did nothing but glare. This pig of a man was throwing his weight around like a chimp did its feces. If the man thought he would be intimidated or impressed, he was sadly mistaken. The glare to end all glares continued unabated.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it!" said the pig-faced idiot. "How was I supposed to know they would go to the press?"

Snape kept glaring, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"I mean, if you can't even trust a fellow politician anymore, who can you trust?!"

Ah, and that was the crux of the matter. The Alliance's weakness was its political system, the many voices arguing, the facade of democracy. He had to give Bellatrix one thing; a dictatorship was far easier to run and caused considerably less headaches. The Alliance so-called unity was far too splintered and a lot of Snape's time was not spent planning for the war, but rather herding political cats.

"You," Snape started. "Made a bad situation even worse. There were no signs that the Walpurgis Union was trying to influence Australia's decision in any way. And why would they when we are doing their work for them?! Our attempt to buy the vote in the Australian Ministry is all over their papers! The outcome is all but certain now, considering the public outrage!"

The pig-faced mad stood rigid in a pathetic attempt to stare him down. "I did nothing but my patriotic duty."

Indeed, the man had gambled and lost. Has his bribery worked, he would have no doubt used that to gain more influence within the Alliance for France and, more importantly, himself. It was time to get rid of this headache.

"Yes," said Snape as he slowly rose from his seat. Seeing the confusion and downright terror on the man's face did him well. "And you will do so again. I am going to do some kingmaking of my own."

Immediately, two auror-commandos appeared on either side of him and grabbed an arm each. The pig-man struggled as he was being forced to his knees. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

"I am charging you with treason," said Snape. "The Walpurgis Union has bought you and used you sabotage the Australian Ministry. Or, at least, that's what the story in the papers will tell."

"That is vicious slander!" said the pig-man as she aurors started to drag him away. "You can't do this?! Do you know who I am?!"

"I know exactly who you are," said Snape calmly. "And right now, you will do your patriotic duty to sacrifice yourself for the need of the Alliance. If we're lucky, the Australians might even reconsider leaving. As it stands, I hope your replacement is more competent. And do not worry. I'll make sure your new permanent home in Azkaban will have a lovely view."

The man was being dragged away kicking and screaming while Snape sat down once more and let out a sigh. What a bloody, bloody mess this turned out to be. Certainly, Snape wasn't hypocritical enough to deny that he had his own plans to influence the outcome. His plan would have worked too if it wasn't for that ambitious fool scheming on making a name for himself. The pig-man had blatantly attempted to bribe two officials and threaten another when she had refused to take the money.

Due to that imbecile, the Phoenix Alliance was in a worse position than ever. Australia leaving would severely impact the balance of power. Though any official announcements were still to be made, Australia was already starting to withdraw its troops from the front-lines. Thankfully, there were still some loyalists whom had refused the order, but these were not enough to make up for the loss of the heavy curse-breakers Australia was known for.

Snape poured himself a glass of French cognac and downed it. Australia had always been difficult to keep under control and never did respond well to orders coming halfway across the globe. ' _We left British imperialism behind years ago, mate_ ,' the Australian Minister had thrown in his face more than once. If he hadn't needed them, he might have thrown them out of the Alliance himself due to their unpredictability. As it stood, this was a victory for Bellatrix and she hadn't even lifted a finger for it; the vile woman was probably gloating right now.

On the subject of Bellatrix, there was something interesting there to keep an eye on. His intelligence office had uncovered some interesting rumors. Though he'd never been able to get a spy inside Buyan Palace, a few of his loyalists had family living in St. Petersburg outside the palace and rumors had a way of trickling down. It seemed that Bellatrix had indeed taken a lover.

One 'Samantha Morris' to be precise. No pictures known, just a vague description. The name had been cropping up more often these days ever since the first report about her after the incident at Zauberbach last year. Samantha Morris was the Wallies' rising star; a very talented young diplomat heading Bellatrix's new ambassadorial staff filled with young idealists. No doubt she was the reason that the Walpurgis Union had not taken a single one of his baits over the past few months.

He opened the file-folder and skimmed the content. Samantha Morris was the daughter of two UK based wizards whom had defected to the Walpurgis Union four years ago. One of four children, she had enjoyed the training of a nurse and had aspirations to become a healer. And now a diplomat, it seemed. Her life had taken an odd turn, but Snape didn't find it altogether strange; war had a tendency to put people on different paths than they had ever had foreseen. He himself, a 'mere' potion-master had become a general in charge of an international war-effort, after all.

He put down the file and let the tiniest of smiles tug at the corners of his mouth; he might have found Bellatrix's weakness. In a way, he felt sorry for the girl. She seemed young and naive, and would now likely pay the price for falling in love with the wrong person.

Immediately, a splitting headache overcame him. Unspeakable images assaulted his mind while the glass in his hand fell and shattered on the ground. He bent forward and grasped his head with both hands as the pain throbbed through his skull.

A moment of weakness. No, the girl had made her choice. One girl's life was a small sacrifice in order to save the wizarding world from the madness of Bellatrix. It had to be done.

As the pain ebbed away, he reached for the file once more. He would have to find out more about this Samantha Morris.

* * *

**22nd of january 2004 – Nurmengard wizarding prison – Lower levels**

Luna Lovegood didn't visit Nurmengard all too often these days. Nurmengard, formerly the prison built by Grindelwald, who in turn was its sole occupant until dispatched by Voldemort, was a sizable magical fortress which had been re-purposed to house Alliance POW's. As the war progressed and the number of prisoners mounted, the Union had taken to using other facilities as well.

However, the lower levels which consisted of a series of window-less corridors and dank cell blocks were used by Luna's agents as both a safehouse and a place meant for more... clandestine things. Honestly, Luna didn't like coming here. As she walked through corridors, she could feel the weight of the stone upon her, as well as all the collective misery this place had inflicted during its existence.

One of her agents was waiting for her. Agent Romanova, a Russian woman in her late twenties and a reasonably competent field operative was waiting for her near the guardhouse. Luna could see from a distance that the woman was uncomfortable.

"Spymaster," greeted Romanova. Though Luna always preferred to be addressed with her first name by her subordinates, Romanova had always balked at that. Judging from Romanova's expression, she didn't want to be here any more than Luna did. "We put him in cell one, per your instructions."

Her voice was demure and devoid of feeling. I didn't surprise Luna, as Andrew was a jovial fellow whom had been a friend of many. She'd have to play this carefully.

"Good," said Luna. "I will handle this matter personally. Wait here. This shouldn't take long."

As Luna stepped into the corridor, Romanova did as she was ordered. "What..." her voice echoed through the corridor behind her. "What did he do?"

Luna said nothing and continued on her path into the dimly lit corridor until she came to a heavy wooden door. The door led into a large holding area which doubled as an interrogation chamber. The wall of the chamber was lined with all manner of torture equipment, from manacles to thumbscrews. None were ever used, of course, as usually the mere threat of its use along with a bit of clever acting was enough to convince a subject to talk. Torture was not something Luna allowed.

In the middle of the room, tied to a simple chair, sat Andrew. A former trusted agent of hers, she had spent the better part of January out in the field hunting him down. In the end, she had managed to confront him and won the duel which ensued. Andrew looked like a shade of his former self; a deranged look on his eyes as he was frothing at the mouth, tearing futily at his bonds.

"What were you thinking?" Luna asked after closing the door. "You knew the risks better than anyone."

Indeed, Andrew was like her. He had known the truth when presented with it. As such, Andrew had helped her out tremendously in tracking down ancient texts, prophecies and tracking down members of the doomsday cult operating in Tsunguska. Where she had been forced to hide her true motives from her other agents, she could be open and honest with Andrew. The two of them had often bounced ideas off each other, coming to previously unexplored viewpoints. Until Andrew suddenly disappeared in October last year.

"Do I?" he rasped mockingly. "I'm not sure you understand the risks. Luna, do you honestly believe that your Hermione Granger will save you?"

Luna shook her head. "She is the key. You know this. You. Me. We aren't important. It's her. It's always been her."

He cackled again, and looked up. But not at her. Rather, just past her, over her shoulder. It was shocking for Luna to see how far gone her former friend was. "No," he said. "The key is the ritual. Every time it's performed, it brings us closer."

"Closer to our doom!" Luna exclaimed. "What did you think would have happened if you'd flatten half of St. Petersburg?!"

Andrew laughed again. "I would have flattened half of Russia if I could have gotten the proper spell components," he smirked wickedly. "The bigger the better! If you haven't interfered, we would have touched the face of God Himself! We should beg for mercy and forgiveness."

Finally giving in to her anger, Luna rushed forward and slammed her hands on the chair's armrests. "That monster is not god!"

"For all intents and purposes, It is God," Andrew said, calmer this time. "It can't be stopped. Surely you can see that. We're nothing before It but fodder and playthings. While you're wasting your time with that stupid cunt, I am actually trying to _save us_. We should _embrace_ our fate, and not foolishly trying to stop the inevitable."

Luna shook her head. "No," she replied softly. "This world. Humanity. It's worth saving, Andrew."

Andrew looked up, and sneered. "You see them too. Don't lie to me. I know you do. You see what I see... And don't want to see them anymore!"

The sneer, the hubris, suddenly it was all gone. And what was left in the chair was a broken man. "God does exist," he muttered. "And He... has abandoned us."

And so Luna knew what she had to do. Andrew had tried to perform the Tsunguska ritual in the heart of the St. Petersburg wizarding community and, worse yet, he had almost succeeded. If it had not been for one careless move which revealed his trail to her, St. Petersburg would have been reduced to ashes. Bellatrix likely would have blamed the Alliance for it and press for an all-out assault. It would have bathed the wizarding world in blood.

There was too much of a risk. He cannot be set free, yet keeping him here would raise too many questions. He simply knew... too much. Without hesitation, Luna raised her wand, muttered loathed words and a bolt of sickly green energy snuffed out her former agent's life. A second spell incinerated the body into fine ash, removing all trace of his existence.

With heavy heart, Luna stepped out of the cell and into the corridor. A few steps onward, she found agent Romanova waiting for her. Before she could utter a word, Luna stepped forward. "Andrew gave his life to foil a terror attack by rogue Alliance agents which would have destroyed most of wizarding St. Petersburg. The records will be sealed to prevent panic among the populace and subsequent risks to Ms. Granger's plans to achieve peace. The body will never be recovered and Andrew will be posthumously awarded the Star of Walpurgis medal of valor. I will inform his family myself. Do I make myself clear?"

"But…" Romanova stammered, doubt clear on her face.

"I could also recommend a second person will be posthumously rewarded the Star of Walpurgis," said Luna, keeping her tone as cold as could be under the circumstances. "Again, do I make myself _clear,_ agent?!"

Having gotten the hint, agent Romanova nodded vigorously. "Y-yes. Yes, spymaster."

The emotional stress got her. Overcome with vertigo, Luna grabbed the railing to steady herself. She knew what was coming as Andrew's words ran hollow through her mind: _'You see them too. I know you do'._ Once again they appeared. Monsters lurking from the shadows, both from the corners of her eyes and in plain view; staring at her were eyes of malicious predators hungry for the kill. A featureless flesh-blob feeding on a puddle of blood in the corner near the cell. Eyes in the shadows; faceless things watching her from around the corner. Luna looked up at Agent Romanova, a life-long sufferer of severe depression, having a large insect-like creature burrowed into the flesh of her back with its foot-long proboscis buried deep into her skull. To her right, there were claw-marks on the walls from a three-pronged claw... a claw she could see from the corner of her eyes as it slid into the deeper corridor.

Worse still were the sounds… sounds in the distance; a mix of the screech of metal grinding on metal and the deepest bloodcurdling screams imaginable. And it was coming closer.

Luna squeezed her eyes shut and started counting. ' _One… two… three…_ '

And as quickly as they had appeared, it was all was gone. The screaming, the insect, the creatures, the blood and the scratches on the wall. Just a normal, if a bit depressing, grey stone corridor.

"Spymaster?" asked Romanova, obviously worried.

Luna took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine," she lied.

It was the price she had to pay and was willing pay, for knowing _too much_. For looking _too far._ For dealing with realities meant to remain hidden. She'd been staring into the abyss too long and the abyss had been staring back unrelenting and these things came crawling out of the darkness ever so often. Luna wasn't sure what they were; real, or figments or simply aspects of reality most people were never meant to see.

She'd lasted much longer than Andrew. Perhaps it was her, well, _flexible_ , way of viewing reality that helped her cope.

One thing was certain, though. Every time she saw them, the _things_ were just a tiny bit closer to her. One day, they would inevitably catch up to her.

But Luna had resigned herself to this eventual fate; she knew what she was getting into from the very start. It had been the fate of many wizards and witches before her; every single of those who laboured to unearth the truth behind Ouroboros and Its power had paid for it with their sanity.

Despite what Andrew had said, Luna was still firm in her belief that it was Hermione who would decide the fate of the world. To save it, or to doom it. Luna herself didn't matter, as she already knew what her ultimate fate would be.

She just hoped her sanity would hold out long enough for her to play her part.


	20. Miss You

**27th of February 2004 – Turku, Finland – Granger Residence**

It was odd just how fulfilling it was to simply spend time at home with her parents playing a board game around the coffee table. Outside, it was still snowing in the darkness of the evening, while the roaring fire in the fireplace and the dimmed lights gave the entire living room a cozy presence. Next to her on the sofa, sleeping while having lain her head on her lap, was her little sister. It was just past her bedtime, though because the game was coming to an end, their dad had allowed her to stay up late just a little longer.

The game itself was Risk, which hit Hermione as being quite ironic. She, her father and her mother were vying for world domination by strategically placing armies and planning ahead. It wasn't unlike what she was doing in the real world; manipulating nations by use of clever tactics. She just hoped she'd do better in real life than she'd done on the board today; aside from some minor holdings in Africa, her mum had pretty much wiped her right off the map.

Still, she wouldn't consider this time wasted; she'd be donning her 'Samantha Morris' persona for a few continuous months and leaving for Japan tomorrow to start negotiations in the deepest of secrets. Her plan was to force the heads of state of the Alliance members to the negotiating table by upsetting the balance of power between the Union and the Alliance. Australia leaving the Alliance was an unforeseen fortuitous happenstance which had shook them up, but it wasn't enough. For her plan to work, one of the neutral nations had to join the Walpurgis Union.

The US was off the table. The wizarding US were staunch isolationists and, even though they had signed a non-aggression pact with the Union, them joining the Union was unlikely. Canada was much the same. India was having too much internal strife to be a reliable ally, and Hermione feared civil war in that nation if she pressed the issue. Many other neutrals were simply too small to be of use.

That left Japan.

It was the prefect candidate, really. Japan was a country with a rich cultural history which was far more accepting of the supernatural than most modern muggle societies; a lot of Japanese wizards were 'out' to their non-magical families. As such, the ideals of the Walpurgis Union were far more appealing to them than the complete separation the Phoenix Alliance was promoting.

Another reason was the interesting history of the Japanese wizarding world, which had never been part of the Meji restoration of 1868. As such, the Japanese wizarding world still had the political system of the Edo period, a feudal shogunate which was run by wizarding Daimyo under a Shogun serving as a supreme leader. The top-down feudal system of this magical shogunate was quite in line with the way the political system of the Walpurgis Union worked.

Of all the neutral nations, Japan was thus the most likely candidate for her to execute her plan. If Japan were to join the Walpurgis Union and gave up their neutrality, it would make a lot of Alliance Ministries very, very nervous. It was then when Hermione would give them the irresistible offer for a peace-treaty.

"And there goes your last army, sweetie," sounded Emma Granger as she swept the piece off the board with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll allow you to live out the rest of your days under house arrest."

"Huh?" said Hermione as she was being torn back to reality and saw that her position on the board had been thoroughly decimated. "Oh, bother!"

"Yep," said Jack Granger as he got up and stretched. "Your mum wiped the floor with us, puppet."

Her father patted her on the shoulder while picking up the groggy Ophelia as she stirred in her lap. "Come on, then," said her father. "Time to put this little lady to bed."

Ophelia was tired enough to have no energy left to protest and allowed herself to be carried away to her bedroom downstairs. Hermione sat back while her mother gathered the pieces and the board to put it away. "Sweetie, you were miles away tonight."

"I know," Hermione said while rubbing her temples. She was more tired than she thought, both physically and mentally. The young witch had been doing exhaustive research on Japanese customs and culture, as well as preparing negotiating tactics. Worst thing yet, she was going in alone without any aides to negate the risk of leaks. "At lot is depending on me."

Her mother took her hand while she sat next to her on the sofa, eyes brimming with concern. "You're just one woman, Hermione," said Emma. "You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"Hm," said Hermione with a brief smile. "When I've made peace, I can retire from the diplomacy game and write my memoirs."

That made her mother giggle. "Oh, sweetie, considering you're the paramour of a world leader, I don't think you'll be out of the fire for long. How is Bellatrix doing, by the way?"

"She's fine," said Hermione. "Though a bit cross that I'll be gone for an indeterminate amount of weeks."

"I like Bellatrix," said her mother. "But she _does_ come across as a little possessive."

Hermione chuckled in response, still rubbing her temples as she lay her head back on the back cushion of the sofa. "Possessive? She's that and more. She's rude, impulsive, often infuriating and... I love her," replied Hermione, startling herself by saying it. "I'm stark-raving mad for loving her, but I can't help it. I'm going to miss her terribly."

"My girl has found her foil," said Emma with a smirk. "If my impression of her is correct, she'll want to spend some time with you before you leave tomorrow. But do try to get some sleep tonight regardless after rolling around underneath the sheets."

It took Hermione a few seconds to wrap her mind around what her mum... _her mum_... had just said to her. "Mum!" Hermione protested while feeling blood rush to her cheeks.

"Oh come now," spoke her mother, before laughing at her own pun. "You're both adults in love who are not going to be seeing each other for a bit. And don't tell me otherwise, hm? The few times that Bellatrix was staying at our house in your room? I could hear you two, you know?"

Eyes growing wide, Hermione wished she could dig a hole in the ground and jump in it. Her mother was right, though; if she knew Bellatrix, she'd be waiting for her in bed with two glasses of the most expensive champagne and scented candles while clad in black lace.

Just as Hermione was to open her mouth to retort, her father came up the stairs holding a certain little yawning girl now dressed in unicorn pajamas. "Well," said Jack Granger. "A certain someone wants to say goodbye."

"Oh, come here, you," Hermione smiled warmly while she took her little sister in an embrace.

"Hermione?" Ophelia spoke with a quivering lip while looking up at her with big brown sad eyes. "Why can't you visit?"

"Your sister is going on an important mission," said Hermione. "If I succeed, a lot of people won't get hurt anymore. Now, I really hate that I can't come and visit you. But when I come back, I promise I'll take you to the zoo."

"Will they have tigers?" Ophelia asked hopefully.

"I'm sure of it," said Hermione as their father took her again after another quick hug. When her father had carried her little sister down the stairs again, she turned to her mother. "I have to do this, mum."

"I know, sweetie," said her mother as she took her in an embrace. "I just worry about you. You've been working so hard."

"I'll be fine, mum."

* * *

**28th of February 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Bellatrix's office.**

This was one of those moments where Bellatrix was just so endearing to Hermione. Bellatrix's quill was hovering over the Letter of Marque which would officially declare Hermione – or, rather, Samantha Morris – as Bellatrix's personal representative with executive powers in diplomatic affairs. On her face was a pout which wouldn't look out of place on a particularly cheeky six-year old.

"If I sign this," Bellatrix spoke with a tiny voice. "You're leaving... for over a month."

"It's for a good cause," Hermione tried sounding as diplomatic as possible. "Besides, it might not even take that long."

"Or it might take longer," Bellatrix sighed. "I don't want you to go!"

At this point, the young witch's mood hovered between being touched and being frustrated. "Look, Bella," said Hermione. "If there's one thing you still have to learn about being a world leader, is that sometimes you have to make sacrifices."

"I'm a Dark Lady," Bellatrix hissed. "I get whatever I want!"

"Not this time," Hermione spoke with a twinkle in her eye. "I _am_ going to Japan. It's for all our benefits. Now sign it."

"But..."

"SIGN IT!" Hermione pressed. Honestly, Bella could be so childish even at the best of times.

Bellatrix muttered something under her breath, out of which Hermione could only make out the word 'bossy'. With more than a little reluctance, Bellatrix put her quill to the paper and signed it, magically binding it with her seal of office. She sat back in her chair and pouted even harder as Hermione took the Letter of Marque from her desk. The dark witch ran a hand through her curly hair and let out a defeated sigh.

"Bella," Hermione spoke with a soft voice, having thought of just the thing to cheer up her dark beloved. "I'm expected to be in Japan by this evening. That means I've got half a day to kill. I want to take my lady out on the town."

Immediately, the dark witch perked up a bit, offering her an amused look. "Oh?" she grinned broadly, like a young girl about receive a present on her birthday would.

"We've sort of been living a one-track life," said Hermione. "We do spend a lot of time together, but most of it is either around the Palace or in bed."

Quite expected, Bellatrix smirked at her. "And this a complaint?"

Hermione chuckled and reached over Bellatrix's oaken desk to tap the dark witch on the nose. "Definitely not. But I'd like us to spend some time together as a couple. I suppose that's a bit harder to do knowing who the both of us are. But I know just the thing."

"What do you have in mind?" Bellatrix asked, her curiosity obviously piqued.

Hermione said nothing, but strolled over to the tall windows of Bellatrix's office. Beyond the palace gardens, beyond the stretch of water, lay St. Petersburg. "There," she pointed. "Muggle St. Petersburg. I've seen it from the palace windows for almost a year, and for so long I've just been thinking to myself... that I want to go there. Artyom gave me this travel guide and there's some places I really want to see."

When she turned around, she saw that Bellatrix had blanched, looking even paler than she usually did. " _Muggle_ St. Petersburg?" she hissed. "What's wrong with the wizarding quarters?"

"Oh, come now," Hermione offered an encouraging smile. "If you want wizards to have a place in the world, you've got to get to know the Muggle world as well. It's one of the reasons you are fighting this war to begin with."

"Makes sense… I suppose," Bellatrix rubbed her chin. Hermione sighed; wizards and witches tended to be so segregated. Even the Walpurgis Union, so focused on wanting to create their own destiny and wanting to reclaim their place in the world, had this tendency.

"You should listen to us Muggle-borns more often," said Hermione. "Believe it or not, sometimes we have good ideas."

Bellatrix grumbled for a bit. "I'm finding that out."

"It'll be fun," said Hermione. "We'll be away from the palace for a bit and… nobody will recognize us. We'll only need minor disguises and won't need to polyjuice ourselves"

To Hermione's slight surprise, the dark witch agreed. So, Hermione spent the next ten minutes transfiguring their clothing to something more appropriate to the Russian winter. Bellatrix stood tall in boots, warm trousers and a long fur coat, topped off with a Russian ushanka hat... all in black, of course. Hermione herself opted for a long fur coat, jeans and a woolly beanie hat pulled over the top of her ears.

"Really, you should wear trousers more often," said Hermione, not even in the slightest bit embarrassed about the lingering looks on Bella's bum now neatly packaged in lovely black trousers.

"The hat," Bellatrix winked. Hermione realized she must make quite a spectacle with most of her long brown hair spilling out from under her beanie. For whatever reason, Bella seemed to find it sexy.

St. Petersburg was just an apparation away. As Bella brought them into the city, they appeared at the mouth of an alleyway near a busy street. Bellatrix was understandably wary and did not seem to like the noisy cars or the local Muggles all that much from the way she saw glaring. Hermione quickly hooked her arm around Bellatrix and walked her to a more quiet spot before the dark witch could take out her wand.

The weather was quite pleasant; just a few degrees below zero, total lack of wind and light grey sky. The streets were covered with a layer of snow which blanketed the entire city. Bellatrix looked around nervously when Hermione checked the map to see where they were exactly. The young witch concluded they were only a short walk away from the Winter Palace.

Though Bellatrix remained somewhat jumpy, the dark witch relaxed somewhat when it became obvious that the Muggles weren't randomly attacking her or each other. Together, the two of them walked to the Palace Square. The massive Winter Palace came in sight; once the official residence of the Romanov Tzars, it now housed the State Hermitage Museum and its massive collection of treasures. Rectangular shaped and giving the impression of supreme opulence, it was built to reflect the might and power of Imperial Russia before the revolution of 1917.

"Did you know I almost lived there?" Bellatrix told her, startling Hermione.

"What?" she replied.

"It's true," said Bellatrix. "When we first took over the Russian Ministry and looked to expand our fledgling domain, we needed a proper center of government. The Winter Palace was our first choice."

"You wanted to take over one of the biggest tourist attractions in all of Russia and make it your private home?" Hermione blinked. "And what about all the art in the museum?"

"We were planning have a give-away," said Bellatrix. "We figured the Muggles would like them."

Hermione let out an annoyed grunt. "I bet the President would have loved that."

"Oh, I remember that drunkard," said Bellatrix. "I went to announce myself as the new ruler of magical Russia as is proper and... Merlin, what was his name again?"

"Boris Yeltsin."

"Yes, that's the one," said Bellatrix. "He would have traded the Winter Palace for a bottle of vodka, I'd wager. Not like Putin. Heh, he actually tried to stand up to me. That ended with him cowering underneath his desk when I accosted him with the simplest of spells. He sees things our way now, that cooperation is mutually beneficial. If he hadn't, we would have found a president who would."

Hermione preferred not to think about that; the Walpurgis Union was far from a democratic entity and the manipulation of Muggle governments still didn't sit well with her.

"Regardless, Antonin recommended we'd look for something else," continued Bellatrix. "And that's how we ended up taking Buyan island for ourselves. It had been abandoned for several decades and needed to be renovated, but it's far more defensible and enjoys prestige in the wizarding world," said Bellatrix. "Besides, our palace is nicer than the Winter Palace."

"On that, I agree," said Hermione. Though she would liked to have visited a museum, Bella already looked bored simply walking past the building. Instead, they decided to go for a walk in the nearby park. There were plenty of people there enjoying a day out and the first thing Hermione did was to look for a quick bite to eat. Now, Artyom had warned her about dodgy food stands, so she looked out for more reputable looking vendors. She found one in the form of a vendor working from a large and clean looking van.

She ordered two Chiburekki, a half-moon shaped fried turnover with a filling of minced meat and onions and two bottles of Kvass, a local drink. The two of them sat slightly cuddled up together on a bench to eat their food. The air was cold, but shared warmth was the best warmth, Hermione found.

"It occurs to me that I've never actually asked what you think of our plans. You fought against us and you are with us now. That gives you a unique perspective," Bellatrix asked.

Hermione had to think for a moment. "Torn," she replied honestly. "I've always been torn, I guess. I've told myself that I want this peace for everybody, but… I like the idea of wizards and Muggles coming together. When I was still with the Alliance, I believed the propaganda. I honestly thought you were like the Death Eaters, planning to enslave humanity and wipe out the Muggle-borns. Now that I'm actually here, it's more… nuanced."

"But do you support it?"

"Yes and no," said Hermione. "I've always thought that the wizarding world was too insular, to separate from the rest of humanity. I like that the Walpurgis Union wants to bring both worlds closer together, but I'm not too crazy about your methods. It's focused too much on control and manipulation. Also, very few of the people at the top actually interact with Muggles or understand the Muggle world. That includes you."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Bellatrix huffed.

"Only because I twisted your arm!" Hermione shot back. "But it's worse in the Phoenix Alliance. They want complete and utter separation to a point that they prefer Muggle-borns to disassociate from their own families. I only supported them because I thought you were worse. Snape does have a point when he says Muggles can be dangerous. Bigotry can be a powerful thing, but there are so many good, intelligent and warm people among the Muggles too!"

"We're not fools. If they try anything, we'll crush them like bugs!" Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously.

"You can't be serious!" Hermione gasped until she saw the grin spread across the dark witch's beautiful face.

"We've got a lot of aces up our sleeves," replied Bellatrix.

"I believe that," said Hermione. "But I urge you to get to know the Muggle world. You'll be surprised to learn that wizards and the rest of humanity are very much alike."

Bellatrix carefully drew her wand and decided to have a little fun. As a woman was passing by, Bellatrix kept her wand to her side and with the tiniest of flicks, a glob of snow shot up from the ground and hit the woman in the back of the head. The woman turned around and shouted some Russian expletives at nobody in particular before continuing on her way.

"Oh, very mature," Hermione rolled her eyes before taking a careful sip of her kvass.

"It's fun."

"It's juvenile."

"Come, try it."

"No."

"Stick-in-the-mud."

"No."

"You'll love it!"

"No!"

Just then, Hermione spotted a young man obviously making the moves on a couple of young girls. The girls were obviously not impressed, but the man kept following them. Hermione narrowed her eyes and drew her wand ever so slightly. She waited for the right movement to jiggle her wand and, when she did, the entire contents of a snow-covered tree came crashing down upon the startled young man. The girls giggled and the man swiftly withdrew from the park.

"Who lectured me on maturity again?" Bellatrix smirked at her.

"That was not a prank," lectured Hermione. "That was an intervention."

"Uh-huh. Right," Bellatrix grinned. "You loved doing that."

Hermione closed her eyes. The dark witch knew her well. "There... might... have been some enjoyment, sure, but..."

"Now you."

"No!"

"Come on."

"I really shouldn't."

"You know you want to."

And that started the prankfest, where Hermione and Bellatrix tried to outdo each other bombarding the other parkgoers with magical snowballs.

Man walking his dog. SMACK.

Lady with a pram. SMACK.

Couple feeding the ducks. SMACK. SMACK.

Pigeon. SMACK.

Two girls gossiping. SMACK.

Jogger. SMACK.

Policeman on patrol. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

By the time Hermione had decided that these pranks were harmless and victimless, she was laughing along with Bellatrix. "This is fun," said Bellatrix. "Rodolphus never did things with me. Well, other than demanding marital duties for the sake of offspring, that is."

"The more I learn about him, the less I like him," Hermione said.

"Let's just say that having blue balls was more or less a constant for him," Bellatrix muttered.

Hermione frowned. "I don't really want to talk about balls, blue or otherwise. How about we leave this park before people start to wonder why we're the only ones not covered with snow?"

"Oh, poo," Bellatrix pouted.

There were some hours left in the day, so Hermione opted to buy tickets to a classical ballet venue at the nearest tourist booth. Again she paid with rubels Artyom had exchanged for her and got both her and Bellatrix a private booth at the Mikhailovsky which was only a short walk away from the park.

The show started just as they arrived and they took their seats in their private booth. Swan Lake was being performed and Hermione leaned on the side of the balcony to get a better view. Russian ballet performance was among the best in the world and it showed. The dancers were graceful beyond belief and the music itself was fantastic. However, it seemed Bellatrix had very different interests.

Hermione turned her eye. "What are you doing?"

Bellatrix looked to be in utter concentration, focused on the side of Hermione's head and squinting her eyes in the darkness. "Counting the freckles next to your eye."

"Why?" Hermione frowned, turning her head slightly.

"Ah, you moved!" sounded an annoyed Bellatrix. "Now I have to start all over again. Keep still."

As the ballet performance continued, more and more did the two lovers focus on each other instead of the stage. As much as Bellatrix would miss Hermione, the opposite was true as well. Hermione had come to share deep love with her dark witch and she would miss her terribly. Hermione reflected, for a moment, how easier her life could have been if she had not fallen for Bellatrix. And, also, just how dull it would have been.

* * *

**21st of March 2004 – London, UK – 12 Grimmauld Place**

"I'm home!" Harry yelled upstairs as he stepped into 12 Grimmauld Place. After the war he had claimed the Black ancestral home for himself and, after a big clean-up and redecoration spree, he found it to be home.

"Ginny?" he called up as she put the groceries he had picked up from the store on the floor as he hung up his coat. There was no reply. After closing the door and carrying the groceries into the kitchen, he found a note lying on the kitchen counter. Ginny, of course, knowing him well, had left it right on the spot where he'd usually put down the groceries. His girlfriend had gone out shopping with Fleur. Harry let out a sigh; that meant he'd probably wouldn't see Ginny for the rest of the evening.

Truth be told, he wasn't entirely mournful about it. He stepped into the drawing room and plopped down on his favorite chair. The past weeks had been beyond hectic. Not only had the intelligence office been busy plugging up leaks Australia had left, but Snape had become increasingly paranoid as of late. The Union wasn't falling for his plans to lure them out and he continuously feared that there was a leak in his government. This kept the intelligence office busy doing raids and questioning random Ministry workers.

Harry brought a hand up to his forehead as he glanced to the side-table next to his chair. As usual, Kreacher had left the mail there for him to read. He went through the pile and tossed the paper on the coffee table for later. Bits of propaganda and advertisements found their way into the cozy fireplace until... he found a letter sent to him from international owl-post. He swiftly opened it and found it to be from his Australian friend Rollo.

Rollo apologized for the delay in sending him information, as Australia had been removed from the Alliance's floo network. His heart skipped a beat as he read further. The muggle Interpol had found something.

A family fitting the Grangers' description had been found living... in Finland of all places. The ages all checked out and they had even went back to using the Granger surname. According to the report, they had recently immigrated to a city called Turku in Finland and even got a dental practice going. Interpol hadn't taken any action other than reporting back as they had found all their immigration paperwork to be in order and the family had not been accused of any crimes. On the muggle side of things, nothing looked out of the order.

But on the wizard site of things, Harry was utterly perplexed. Not only was there no mention of a fourth member of the family, but... Finland? That was as deep in the heart of Wallie territory as it could get. Just what the hell was Hermione up to?

Harry put the letter down and started to pace. What could be Hermione's reasoning here? The Alliance wasn't the kindest place for a muggle-born child to be right now. Could that be the reason? Still, there were plenty of neutral countries to pick from.

Hiding her family in plain sight, perhaps?

It just didn't make sense. And where was Hermione herself?

The thing was, there was no way Harry could get to the Grangers. Entering Walpurgis Territory, as well known as he was, would be akin to painting a bull's eye on his back. The same would be for Hermione. Unless... she had made use of some diplomatic favors she had with the Union to keep her family safe? But why? And how did she know she could trust them to keep their word? And why didn't she try to contact him about it?

It didn't make sense. Nothing of it made sense.

Harry developed even more of a headache than he already had. Snape would never allow him to investigate this, so he'd have to keep this under the radar until he knew more. Some careful planning would be in order.

And not telling Ron. Definitely not telling Ron.

* * *

**22nd of March 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island wilds**

One of the things about the UK Bellatrix didn't miss was the erratic and downright dreary weather. It seemed like weather in St. Petersburg was just more... storybook honest. Winters were cold and snowy, summers were warm and sunny. Currently, in early March, temperatures were well below zero, giving way to a beautiful snow-covered landscape with frozen lands. Soon enough, spring would come and the land would be green and vibrant once more.

The dark witch had left the palace to escape. It seemed like everybody wanted something from her today. Rookwood was bothering her about input on some educational program or whatnot; as if _she_ knew anything about schooling children. Antonin had some troop deployments in mind, while Luna needed her approval to go ahead with a sensitive covert operation in The Hague. Meanwhile, Birgit had more concept art for her to look at and Maini had some budgetary concerns.

Honestly, these people couldn't breathe without her input. Who could have thought that being the Dark Lady of a magical Empire spanning dozens of nations would be so much _bloody work_?!

Technically, she should be keeping an eye on the Quidditch matches going on; three years ago, FIQA had decided to postpone the Quidditch World Cup indefinitely in light of the war. In response, Bellatrix founded the Walpurgis Quidditch Games for Walpurgis Nations with open invitations to neutral nations to compete just to spite them. As to further spit in FIQA's face, she made it an annual event. So far, and despite the war, two successful championships have been held with a third now taking place. However, she wasn't really interested this year. No doubt they'd tell her who won and she'd hand the winning team the cup on their own soil like she had the last two years.

Honestly, she had other things on her mind.

She had found a large piece of shale at the edge of a steep cliff to sit on after using fiery magic to get rid of the ice and snow. Her breath condensed with every exhale. The sky was overcast with stark white clouds for as far as the eye could see. Far below her, the waves of the sea crashed against the rocks.

It was cold enough to be needing a fur-lined coat, mitts and earmuffs, but the dark witch felt like she really needed to get out for a bit.

Hermione.

She'd been gone for more than three weeks now, all alone in Japan.

And, by Merlin, it frightened Bellatrix just how much she was pining for the girl. She missed Hermione's laugh, she missed... that slight edge of barely masked frustration that crept in Hermione voice whenever she bombarded the girl with something the young witch found exasperating to deal with.

When he had first developed feelings for the girl, she had been both terrified and disgusted at herself. The old trappings of her upbringing as well as perceived notions of societal pressure had taken its toll on her. It had taken Bellatrix some time to realize that _she_ was the one who made the rules now and that _she_ could do whatever she wanted to do. Eager to escape another cage of her own making, she had never regretted the decision to pursue Hermione romantically.

In fact, it made her realize a great many things.

In her hands was a piece of parchment and a quill. After taking off her mitts and taking a deep breath, she put the quill to the parchment and started writing. ' _Dear Andromeda...'_ The quill slid over the parchment as she simply let the words come flowing. About her day, about Hermione, about her feelings, about her regrets. She wrote her sisters often, but never received a reply. Bellatrix couldn't blame them, but... hoped that if she were persistent enough, they would at least... _acknowledge_ her. To be honest, she really didn't know what she was expecting.

The heavy sound of claws landing on stone accompanied with the ground shaking announced the presence of an old friend. Bellatrix felt a smile creep across her features and put down the parchment when the large head of her draconic friend craned over her shoulder. Always eager for a pat on the nose, the dragon sought out some company.

"Are you lonely?" Bellatrix asked the dragon, of course not expecting an answer.

The dragon settled on the stone, folding his wings in and laying his head near Bellatrix. The puffs of heated air coming from the dragon's nostrils produced jets of steam with every heavy breath.

"Yeah, I know what that's like," Bellatrix replied. The dragon looked a bit thinner than usual, which wasn't surprising. Now that it was winter, there was no livestock out in pastures and he would would have to fly further out into the mainland to hunt woodland creatures which offered less meat on the whole. Bellatrix had thought about offering him some food from the palace kitchens, but had nixed that idea; he might be used to being near her, but if he'd get even cozier with humans, he might start considering the palace staff to be a viable food source.

The dragon looked at her and, even though she thought it was ridiculous, she could swear that she could read a message in his intelligent eyes. ' _You miss your mate?'_

Dragons indeed mated for life. Perhaps he had picked up on her mannerisms? Hermione. Her mate for life? It was an oddly appealing idea. Bellatrix knew quite well the pain of loveless marriages and unrequited love, but now that she found not only love but also the wonders of someone loving her in return, it was not something she ever wanted to let go of.

"Well," Bellatrix told the dragon. "You can help me write this letter, hm? It's to one of my sisters. This is what I put down so far."

As she recited what she had written, she could only conclude that her draconic friend was indeed a good listener.

* * *

**22nd of March 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Luna's office**

Luna's job entailed far more than simply ferreting out the machinations of cosmic god-creatures. There were more mundane tasks to oversee as the Union's spymaster, as she was reminded of while putting the finishing touches on a covert operation to sneak an agent into high levels of Dutch wizarding government. She put down her quill when she heard a frantic tapping on the window. Sitting on the windowsill was an owl from the palace's owlry. Unbeknownst to most, all owls were trained to bring all correspondence with destinations outside of the Walpurgis Union to the intelligence office first. And if the message was from Bellatrix, to bring it to Luna personally.

Luna left her plan for what it was and headed over to the window to accept the message. After giving the owl a walnut, the beast flew off. The letter now in hand, she immediately recognized Bellatrix's distinct calligraphy as she had addressed the message to 'Andromeda Tonks'.

She broke the seal and read the letter. Only three sentences in, she closed her eyes and sighed. Yet another letter which could not be sent.

Not only was Bellatrix unwittingly sending state secrets to someone with known ties to the Old Order of the Phoenix, but Hermione was mentioned in the letter. Oh, not by name, of course, since Bellatrix wasn't that foolish but to Luna Hermione was very much identifiable from the writing.

Luna stepped over to a small magically secured safe underneath her desk and opened it. In the safe were a few sensitive documents on the bottom and a big stack of unsent letters addressed to Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks. All of which contained information too sensitive to actually send. She put the latest letter on top of the pile and closed the safe.

Bellatrix had been sending a lot of letters out recently, but only a few had actually been safe to send out. Luna had intercepted all the others. Oh, should Bellatrix find out, there'd be serious hell to pay. Until then, she would do her best to protect Bellatrix from herself.


	21. Japanese Hands

**24th of March 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Outskirts of Obihiro city**

Japan was well and truly a beautiful country. When thinking of Japan, most foreign visitors thought of cities like Tokyo or Kyoto, but the northern most island of Hokkaido was often ignored by casual tourists.

Unjustly, Hermione thought. The city where she had been invited to stay and where the negotiations were taking place, Obihiro, was lovely and surrounded by a breath-taking wooded landscape with snow-covered peaks in the distance. If she wasn't so tired all the time, she'd take the time to explore a little.

The wizarding world of Japan was mostly concentrated on Hokkaido itself, as was its power structure. Negotiations took place in the back room of a shintoist shrine, all surprisingly out in the open. Discussions which would potentially determine the fate of the wizarding world were held mere meters away from the open areas where worshippers and tourists alike paid their visits and showed their respects.

Before coming here, Hermione had made great effort to study the myriad of written and unwritten social and cultural norms and had done her best to adapt. Even so, it felt like navigating a minefield.

Right off the bat, Hermione had learned that Shogun Hanazono had a tremendous respect for both Bellatrix' accomplishments as well as her ancient bloodline. However, Hermione had not met the Shogun and would not until after negotiations; Japanese wizarding society was very regimented and hierarchical, after all. All negotiations would take place between trusted advisors with full mandate so that an 'equal level' was achieved. Her counterpart speaking for the Japanese Wizarding Shogunate was Akiyama Koichi, a middle-aged Muggle-born man with a friendly, polite and open countenance. However, this belied his shrewd negotiation tactics; this was perhaps the most challenging opponent she had ever faced in the diplomatic arena.

Certainly, the Shogun was willing to accept Bellatrix as his superior and wished a feudal-like relationship with the Walpurgis Union, but that didn't mean he'd just roll over. He realized that the Union had a need and thus attempted to get the best possible deal.

The language barrier didn't help either; a neutral interpreter had been assigned to them which translated to Japanese and English back and forth. A friendly young woman barely in her twenties named Takahiro Chiharu fulfilled that role. Chiharu, a local, had taken her to dinner a couple of times and had felt obligated to show her around the area a little.

Still, after more than three grueling weeks, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Japan joining the Union was pretty much in the bag and there were only a few minor details left to be quibbled over, mostly related to trade-tariffs and military training for Japanese battle-magi by Walpurgis special forces. In a few days, Japan would formally become a member of the Walpurgis Union with full home-rule in exchange for the promise of tribute and military aid.

That is, if nothing went wrong. She knew she shouldn't let her guard down.

"Samantha-san?" asked Chiharu in slightly accented English. "You seem distant."

Hermione looked up from the railing of the wooden bridge she was leaning on, watching the stream below. "Hm?" said Hermione. "Oh, sorry, I'm just a little tired. Today was... long."

"I'll say," said Chiharu. "I never thought there'd be so much to say about blood-sake."

"Give me a bottle and I will drink it all, Chiharu-san," Hermione chuckled. "Oh, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Konbanwa, Samantha-san," Chiharu bowed.

"Konbanwa, Chiharu-san," Hermione repeated before heading towards the resort she was staying at. The Shogun had spared no expense for housing an honored guest; Hermione had been given a large one-story building in the woods all to herself for the duration of her stay. It was a traditionally built Japanese house made from wood, containing paper-screen doors, tatami mats on the floor and a large hallway with direct access to the gardens. Hermione dumped her shoes at the entrance and stepped into the house. It wasn't really all that late, but it was already getting dark and Hermione was very tired. She unfolded the futon and laid it out on the floor ready for use.

Her first stop was the bath filled with magically heated steaming hot water. It was a lot smaller than the bath at the palace, but it was more relaxing and private. She tossed her clothes on a pile and slowly slipped into the hot water. Hermione felt her entire body relax as aching muscles were soothed; she lay her head back and let out a contented sigh. She'd been wearing the mask of Samantha Morris for three weeks continuously now and was honestly looking forward to being Hermione Granger again.

When she slipped out of the bath, it was already dark outside. Hermione dried herself and wrapped a towel around her body. She made her way to the bedroom and was about to lie down onto the futon to do some quiet reading before sleep when she heard knocking on the window.

How odd.

The 'window' was in fact a sliding paper sheet with a wooden slitted covering on the outside. When she slid the paper aside, she could clearly see the shape of Chiharu. What was going on here? Why hadn't Chiharu knocked on the door?

She briefly considered that this might be a kitsune fox spirit which were infesting this area. For some reason these annoying trickster spirits just loved picking on the obvious foreigner. But she was startled when Chiharu suddenly apparated inside the room, appearing inches before her.

"Chiharu-san?" Hermione said, but then noticed what 'Chiharu' was wearing; a long black dress and a leather corset. And when 'Chiharu' opened her mouth, she knew for certain.

"Not quite," was said. Though the voice sounded like Chiharu, the tone with which the words were spoken left no doubt.

"BELLA?!" Hermione gasped. "W-what are you doing here?! You shouldn't be... what did you do to Chiharu?!"

Chiharu-Bella shrugged. "Don't worry. She'll wake up eventually. All I did was take a single hair."

"You shouldn't be here!" hissed Hermione. "The Shogun hasn't officially invited you to Japan yet! This is greatly disrespectful! You are jeopardizing _everything_ I've been working for!"

Chiharu-Bella chuckled in response. "Oh, come on, live a little dangerously, little dove! Do you know how much trouble it was to shake Luna's agents?"

"Honestly, you are risking everything! Why…"

Hermione's rant was stopped in its tracks when she saw a sad pout on Bellatrix's face. "What?" she spoke with a tiny, mocking voice. "Are you saying you're not happy to see me?"

"Right now?" Hermione raised her chin in the air. "I really am not!"

Bellatrix's pout turned into a wide grin. "Liar!"

Once again, Bellatrix had come to the truth of the matter. Honestly, was she so transparent? "Bella, why do you insist on making my life difficult?" Hermione sighed while rubbing her temples with her eyes closed. "Do you realize how much is at stake? If we are found out..."

"We'll lock the door," Bellatrix shrugged. "Besides, why would anyone barge into your room at midnight? You're far too paranoid."

Unbelievable. "Me?! I'm the paranoid one? Of all the pig-headed, stubborn... And, god, you're wearing muddy boots inside a Japanese house! Go take those off! That shoe-cabinet next to the door is there for a reason!"

For her part, Bellatrix seemed rather bemused by her rant. She grinned wickedly and took one step closer. "Oh, that's not all I'll be taking off," she winked and puckered her lips to blow her an imaginary kiss.

Hermione immediately sighed heavily. "God, I've missed you so much..." she said sincerely. Damn the risk... really, who would even know besides them? And at least Bellatrix had taken the precaution to come into her house disguised.

Chiharu-bella waved her wand and lifted the effect of the polyjuice off them both. Not willing to wait any longer, Bellatrix stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist. The young witch leaned forward to hungrily capture her lover's lips. Slowly, the towel slid off her body and dropped to the floor in a heap.

Hermione crushed her body against Bellatrix's as they were caught in their kiss and found herself being pushed backwards towards the futon. Much to Hermione's disappointment, the dark witch broke the kiss and shot her a wicked grin just before roughly spinning her around. Hermione had no time to react before being pushed onto the futon. She landed on the fluffy mattress on her chest while letting out an undignified 'ooofff'. She tried to turn around but found two soft hands pressing down on her shoulders. Bellatrix weight shifted on top of her and she shuddered when she heard a soft whisper in her eyes. "No, no," Bellatrix whispered, her hot breath causing her to shudder. "No, no, no. _I_ 'm the one in control here."

Hermione smiled and set out a satisfied groan when the soft hands slid downwards, sharp nails raking over her skin until they lay on her sides, pressing her down. The young witch swooned, arching her back when she felt her lover's lips touch the small of her back, leading a trail of kisses up the length of her spine. It progressed agonizingly slowly; a catch 22, as Hermione wanted more and at the same time never wanted this moment to end.

Bellatrix whispered a spell that Hermione did not recognize, but she became acutely aware that the dark witch's clothes were gone when her skin touched hers. Hermione breath quickened when Bellatrix covered the whole of her, capturing her earlobe with her lips and suckling gently. "Hmmm," Bellatrix chuckled deeply. "Mudblood tastes great..."

Hermione let out a brief giggle as her lover's joke until the sensations became too much to bear. Almost involuntary she tried to rub her sex against the futon in an attempt to gain some much needed friction. Of course, Bellatrix noticed and seemed rather bemused. The dark witch shifted and Hermione hissed when she felt sharp nails dig into the skin of her bum; punishment had been swift.

The lovers faced each other as they lay on their sides and their lips met once more. God, Bellatrix was such a beautiful woman. And she belonged as much to Hermione as she belonged to Bellatrix. It was also nice to make _her_ swoon for a change, as Hermione gently bit down on the soft flesh of Bellatrix's neck before kissing her way down. She held on to her lover as her lips teased one of Bellatrix's soft breasts, the tip of her tongue twirling around a taut nipple. The young witch smiled when she felt Bellatrix's breath quicken while a hand dug into her hair and held the back of her head.

Their legs and bodies intertwined as they rolled around on the futon, kissing madly. Hermione finally got the friction she so desired when Bellatrix slid her leg between hers, finding a steady rhythm. Hermione eagerly returned the favor, reaching down and tickling her lover's belly-button before her fingers entered her. The dark witch groaned as she bit down on Hermione's shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Their cries of pleasure filled the night as violent release came far too quickly for her liking. The couple threw themselves back on the futon, cuddling against each other as they lay on their backs.

"Well, that was..." Hermione panted.

"Breathtaking?" Bellatrix smirked. "Spectacular? Mind-blowing? Incredible? Pleasurable beyond the realms of imagination?"

"All of the above," Hermione giggled as she snuggled against her dark lover who was running her fingers through her brown hair. Looking to her side, she saw the dark witch watching her, peering at her with dark eyes. "What?" Hermione asked softly.

"You're happy to see me," Bellatrix grinned wickedly, assured of her victory. Though Hermione felt the urge to protest, she figured she'd let Bellatrix have this one.

"Oh, now that I'm here, I might as well show you this," said Bellatrix. Hermione looked on with curiosity as she reached over her to make a grab for the satchel she had brought with her. Bellatrix's breasts slid over her belly, almost making her swoon again. Even when not trying, Bellatrix just always managed to touch her in just the right way. Eventually Bellatrix lay next to her with her head on her shoulder, pouting slightly when she focused her attention on the paper rather than her.

"What am I looking at here?" Hermione asked.

"This is a bank statement of your account with the First Bank of the Union," said Bellatrix.

"Oh?" Hermione replied while nails raked over her belly. "I had no idea that I actually had an account with the Walpurgis bank."

"I've had Maina open one for you," purred Bellatrix. Hermione shuddered when a nimble tongue flicked around her earlobe. "Where else would we deposit your salary, hm?"

"Salary?!" Hermione blinked.

"Of course," replied Bellatrix. "All my advisors get a proper monthly salary for their time and effort."

It was then that Hermione saw the number on the paper and almost shot upwards were it not for Bellatrix's weight pressing down on her shoulders. "This... this can't be right!"

"You're not happy with it? Is it too low?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione blinked. "Too low? Q-quite... quite the opposite, really."

"Now you can buy Ophelia that thing she wanted... what was it called again? Epad?" said Bellatrix. "Come now, certainly Snape rewarded your efforts with what you are worth, no?"

"Well... no," Hermione replied. "I mean, I got a stipend and expenses taken care of, but otherwise..."

"Oh, he did not!" gasped Bellatrix, disbelief apparent on her face. "What a horrible, horrible miser!"

Hermione shrugged. "It was... good work worth doing."

"So you worked for free?" Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't not sure what to be more annoyed about: The fact that Snape exploited you or the fact that you let yourself be exploited! We'll have none of that here. The Walpurgis Union takes care of its own. You will have a proper salary and that is final."

"Remind me to get you a nice gift," smiled Hermione. "I need to spend this insane amount of money somehow."

It was then that Hermione looked at the suddenly quiet Bellatrix, who seemed rather pensive. "Well," grinned Bellatrix. "There's certain... other perks I certainly don't give to the rest of my advisors. Why don't I show you?"

Hermione rolled to her side, facing Bellatrix before flowing into her embrace. "I think I would like that," Hermione smiled before their lips met. Their bodies crushed together, belly against belly, breasts against breasts. Their tongues touched, a hand slid through Bellatrix's curly hair and when Hermione felt a leg curl around hers and another bout of lovemaking started in earnest, she was completely and utterly content.

* * *

**25th of March 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – ?**

_Hermione let out a terrified scream as she was being strapped to the altar while the hierophant and his misshapen cronies leered down upon her. She struggled against her bonds but had no hope to loosen the leather straps keeping her in place._

" _What are you doing?!" Hermione shouted. "Let me go!"_

_There was no answer, but when the chanting from unseen crowds started and the light of the magical torches made the silver daggers being raised high glint dangerously, Hermione had a pretty good idea what was going to happen._

" _HERMIONE!" was shouted from the other side of the room. Bellatrix! Bella had come to save her!_

" _BELLA!" Hermione shouted. "I'm here! Help me!"_

_Still struggling against her bonds, Hermione frantically tried to see what was happening. And there she was; Bellatrix's powerful magics lit up the entire temple. Rage and madness was etched on Bellatrix's face as she killed without mercy, her magics tearing through the hapless cultists. She was so close now, as the misshapen men tried to form a barrier with her bodies._

_A bolt of pure magic rammed through one of their ribcages, shredding flesh, bone and organs alike. Before he fell to the ground, a second one had fallen. Bella. Bella had almost reached her._

_And then... something... something she couldn't make out was behind Bella. Hermione tried to yell out a warning, but it was already too late. It hurt her head to look upon whatever it was, but it grabbed Bellatrix with... something... she couldn't make out the shape, but it seemed to be coming from the dark pit in the middle of the temple. Hermione could only scream and watch in terror as it wrapped around the defenseless Bellatrix and yanked her lover into the pit with a speed that snapped her body like a twig. Bellatrix's screams faded quickly as she was being pulled deeper and deeper into the pit._

_With tears of loss and despair, Hermione resigned to her fate. She steeled herself when the daggers were once again raised and cried out in pain when sharp, cold silver was thrust into her body again and again. Blood poured out of her wounds, slicking her skin and clothing. There was no will left to resist when the cultists heaved her broken body up and tossed her into the pit._

_She fell into darkness and despair for what seemed to be an eternity._

_Then, a bone-shattering sudden stop. That she had lived through it was a miracle as her warm blood pooled around her. She couldn't move. She could hardly breathe._

_Dying. She was dying._

_But... she sensed there was something with her in the darkness._

" _B-bella?" she croaked, startled by the distortion of her own voice. No answer. Bella was gone._

_She was going to die here, frightened and alone._

It was then that Hermione started awake, sitting up in her futon. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she needed a few moments to realize that she was safe and sound in the house in Japan. The young witch closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

Next to her lay Bellatrix. However, it didn't seem like she was having an easy night either. The dark witch was breathing heavily while tossing and turning in their futon. She still seemed to be asleep, though. Hermione debated with herself if she should wake her or not. However, the decision was made for her when Bellatrix grabbed her head and started crying out in pain.

"Bella!" Hermione started shaking her by the shoulders while the dark witch curled up into a fetal position. "Bella, wake up."

Her eyes spread open widely as she trembled. Even though she was awake, the obvious pain in her head had not left her. Bellatrix bit down on her pillow and weathered the storm in her mind while Hermione could do nothing but hold her in an attempt to give her some comfort.

Drenched in sweat, Bellatrix lay panting as the attack had finally passed. For her part, the dark witch seemed to be quite relieved. "God, are you alright, Bella?" Hermione asked while raking her hand through her dark curls.

"A nightmare. Just a fucking nightmare," Bellatrix hissed as she left Hermione's embrace and the futon to stroll over to the other side of the bedroom where a pitcher of water stood. After taking a sip from the cold water, she threw the contents of the pitcher over herself. Hermione heard Bellatrix hiss before she stepped to the window. Hermione slipped out of the futon and joined her there. She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her from behind while parking her chin on her shoulder.

"Bella," Hermione whispered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not," said Bellatrix. "It was so bloody real."

"Bella?" Hermione paused for a moment. "It wasn't just the nightmare, was it? How long have you been having those headaches?"

She felt Bellatrix stiffen in her embrace. "How long have you known?" she asked.

"I suspected for some time," said Hermione. "You're getting worse at hiding it."

"That's because the headaches themselves are getting worse," said Bellatrix. "I used to have them really badly when I was on the run after escaping from Hogwarts. But when the Walpurgis Union was formed, they all but disappeared."

"And now they're back?" Hermione asked. "When did they start? Please, Bella, I know your pride is important to you, but you know you can trust me."

Bellatrix seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Late last year. The headaches started to become more frequent after the two of us became involved. I've been able to hide them for the most part, but like I said, they've been getting progressively worse."

"I want you to see a healer," Hermione demanded.

"What?" Bellatrix twisted around in their embrace, locking eyes with Hermione. Her expression was resolute and fierce. "Not a chance! It's my problem and I will deal with it myself."

"Bella," Hermione whispered. "It's not a weakness to admit that you need help. If you could have seen yourself..."

"Little dove," Bellatrix started to say, her usual obstinacy returning in full force.

"Just do it for me," Hermione half-smiled. It was emotional blackmail and she knew it, but if it would convince Bella to at least talk to a healer, it would be worth it. "Promise me, alright? Think of it this way; it would be a shame to fall to the floor when you're standing in front of the Shogun, hm?"

"It would at that," said Bellatrix. "Alright, I promise I'll go see one of the palace healers. At least I know they can keep their mouths shut.

That answer put Hermione at ease somewhat. She knew she was the worrying type, and she didn't like the fact that her lover was suffering from head-splitting headaches one bit. The two of them shared a brief kiss before Hermione guided her back to the futon. The futon was big enough to hold both and was surprisingly comfortable. Even moreso when Bellatrix snuggled up against her and lay her head on her shoulder.

"The headaches I can deal with," whispered Bellatrix into the night. "It's the nightmare I didn't like."

"Tell me about it," asked Hermione.

"I was in... some sort of temple," Bellatrix said. "And you were being tied to some sort of altar. Naturally, I didn't agree with you being sacrificed to any whatever, so I do my heroic thing and tore through the cultists with my superior magical ability. I know... sounds like something from a stupid Gilderoy Lockheart book, doesn't it?"

That made Hermione blood run cold. Had they really been having the same nightmare? It sounded like Bellatrix had experienced exactly the same dream. "W-what happened next?" she asked.

"I'd almost reached you when... something grabbed me. I'm not sure what, but it dragged me away into some sort of pit," said Bellatrix. "I... I couldn't save you. I felt you die. I'm not sure what happened to me, but... it wasn't pretty. I was slowly being torn apart. And... Oh, fuck me, I'm being an idiot. It was just a dream, nothing more."

"W-we should get some rest," spoke a rather uneasy Hermione. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Hah," grinned Bellatrix. "Why wouldn't I be alright? It's a nightmare and just a little headache. I've dealt with worse, little dove."

Just then, Bellatrix leaned over to kiss Hermione on the lips briefly. After the young witch gave her a questioning look, Bellatrix offered her a warm smile. "For being concerned about me. Trust me, that's a rare thing for me. I'll be fine, Hermione. And I _will_ be seeing a healer as soon as I can. Now, I suggest we get some rest, hm? We need to prepare our tired bodies for the stupendously good early morning sex we're obviously going to have."

That made Hermione giggle in spite of herself. Even still, Bellatrix would find sleep much quicker than Hermione would.

* * *

**26th of March 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Outskirts of Obihiro city**

Not that Hermione would ever admit it, but she rather liked it whenever Bella used her petname for her. 'Little Dove'. She loved the way Bellatrix let it roll over her tongue, she loved the way Bellatrix made eyes at her whenever she said it. On the better days, it made her felt loved and appreciated.

Today, however, was not one of the better days and the well-liked petname sounded only patronizing and condescending to her.

"Little Dove," Bellatrix snapped. "This is a boring!"

"I don't care!" Hermione snapped right back. The young witch loved Bellatrix, she really did, but the woman could be just so infuriating. "Once again, from the top. We start off with a traditional tea ceremony. We arrive at the internal waiting room until we are summoned by the Shogun's aide. First we will be taken to the stone basin near the tea room to ritually purify ourselves by washing our hands and rinsing our mouths with warm water."

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhh," Bellatrix grasped the sides of her head and let herself fall onto the futon where she lay in a fetal position. "Wwwwhhhhyyyyy?!"

"Honestly!" Hermione snapped. "How old are you?! Five?! I swear, Ophelia is more mature than you are!"

"This is such bollocks!"

"This is their culture," Hermione retorted. "Show some respect."

"I don't have respect for nonsense perpetuated by morons!" Bellatrix snapped back.

The young witch let out a heavy sigh, choosing to ignore Bellatrix's childish whining for the moment. "We'll continue along the roji to the tea house where we will remove our footwear and enter the nijiri-guchi. We take our seats in order of status, meaning you will seat yourself on the tatami mat first, then me, then Akiyama-san and then our translator. Then Shogun Hanazono will come out to welcome us to his house. A bowl will be set in front of you and the Shogun will ritually cleanse the utensils. Before we drink the tea, we exchange bows."

"It's just drinking a cuppa chah!" Bellatrix huffed. "Why does this have to be so horrifically complicated?!"

"IT JUST IS!" Hermione snapped, her patience long since exhausted.

"How many airships would it take to just conquer this place?" Bellatrix muttered to herself.

"The Shogun will bow to you. As you are to be considered Sempai, you must never bow deeper than he does. You then bow to me and keep in mind that as your Kouhai I have to bow deeper than you do, so don't overdo it! I will then bow to Akiyama-san. The Shogun will set the bowl with the tea in front of you. You will turn the bowl ninety degrees so you won't drink from the front."

"Then why doesn't the stupid git set it down correctly in the first place?!"

"It's part of the ritual! DEAL WITH IT!" Hermione all but snarled. "You will then sip the tea and for Merlin's sake don't empty the whole bowl. You will hand the bowl to me so I can sip..."

"When do I put in the milk and sugar?" Bellatrix interrupted.

"You won't. It's powdered green tea."

"EUGH!"

"You will then complement the Shogun on the quality of the tea."

Bellatrix looked rather petulant as she crossed her arms. "And what if I think the tea is dogshit?"

"You _will_ compliment the quality of the tea, _especially_ if it's dogshit!" Hermione snapped. "And keep in mind, address the Shogun directly and in English. Never address, look or even acknowledge the translator as that is a vile insult. Treat him or her like an ornament, nothing more. Also never acknowledge the translator if she is interpreting the Shogun's words."

"Sounds a bit harsh," Bellatrix frowned.

"There we are in agreement," said Hermione. "But it's how things are done. Once we finish the tea, we will follow him to his reception hall where we will talk in a more informal setting."

"Hm, finally," said Bellatrix.

"There are some fairly strict rules to keep in mind for informal conduct..."

"OH, BUGGER OFF!"

It was then that Hermione had had more than enough of Bellatrix's antics. Furious, she crossed the room to look Bellatrix in the eye. Her chest heaved and she could swear red flashed in front of her eyes as she grabbed her lover by the shoulders and squeezed as tightly as she could. "TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY! God, do you even realize how much is at stake here? I'm starting to wonder if you even really care! You can't even bring yourself to listen to me, and instead you moan and groan like a bratty five-year old! I swear, even a goldfish has a longer attention span than you do! We're going to go over the entire ceremony again and I swear YOU HAD BETTER PAY ATTENTION TO EVERY SINGLE WORD!"

Hermione noted that Bellatrix's expression had shifted to a terrifying mix of shock and rage, but the young witch was too angry to care. She huffed and stormed towards the window, laying her arms on the windowsill while she counted to ten. Honestly, Hermione felt more than a little embarrassed, and the anger she had felt for Bellatrix's antics shifted to herself. She'd often accused the dark witch of being too unstable to control her anger, but she was very much aware that she herself was not exactly immune from flying off the handle.

Hermione flinched when two arms wrapped around her waist and became acutely aware of Bellatrix's soft lips pressing against the side of her neck. "My, my, my," sounded, the lust apparent on Bellatrix's voice. "You're so alluring when you're angry with me."

"Bella, I..." Hermione stammered, eager to apologize but being cut short when she felt a hand already sliding down the hem of her trousers. Nimble fingers thrust further downward and found their target. A shudder went through Hermione's body as her breath quickened with every gentle stroke. Her nails dug into the wood of the windowsill while she moved her hips against Bellatrix's motion to increase the friction. A wry chuckle sounded behind her as Hermione lay her head back, giving the dark witch the opportunity to rove the tip of her tongue along the length of her neck.

Release came far too quickly for her like, but it came swift and violent. Black spots floated in front of her eyes when she let out an uncomfortably loud orgasmic cry into the night. Having gone weak in the knees, Hermione wasn't quite aware of what happened next, but when she could once again form coherent thoughts, Hermione found herself lying on the futon while a smirking Bellatrix looking at her as she lay on her side and twirled a lock of her curly hair with her fingers.

"You should relax more," Bellatrix pouted. "I am very much aware what's at stake here. But I'm also very much aware that I am not pleased with all these asinine social rules they have here in Japan."

"I understand that it can be a bit much," sighed Hermione.

"Tell you what," Bellatrix let out that sexy throaty chuckle of hers. "You can tell me bits and pieces about Japanese culture in between bouts of passionate lovemaking. Sound like a good deal?"

The young witch couldn't help but smile as she reached over to wrap an arm around her lovely Dark Lady. "Sounds a lot better than me yelling at you for ignoring me," she said while leaning in for a kiss.

* * *

**27th of March 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Palace of the Sun**

Bellatrix wasn't as short-sighted as she sometimes allowed herself to appear to be.

After the formation of the Walpurgis Union, she had spent a small fortune in galleons to erase the marks left upon her body from her previous life; the Azkaban tattoo on her neck, the remnants of the dark mark on her inner wrist, the scars on her body from the chains she had been bound with. Physically, at least, it was a fresh start. However, her reputation wasn't so easily shed.

She was self-aware enough to realize that she could be arrogant and vain, as well as having a very short fuse. Combine that with tales of her past cruelties while a Death Eater, tales which had been exaggerated significantly by Alliance propaganda as well as the public's general imagination, and that had given enemies and allies alike certain expectations of her.

And there was nothing Bellatrix loved to do more than to toy with people's expectations.

The dark witch quite enjoyed the Palace of the Sun. There was an air of magical tradition all through this ancient building, and though she thought her own palace as a lot nicer, there was a certain charm to it. At all time, Hermione under the guise of 'Samantha Morris' was at her side as they were being guided in for the traditional tea ceremony.

When she first laid eyes upon Shogun Hanazono, she saw a frail and seemingly ancient man with skin like weathered sandpaper. In truth, she half expected him to crumble into dust the moment someone laid even the lightest touch on his shoulder. Next to her, Hermione shifted nervously with every moment; even though she wore the face of another, her expressions betrayed her.

But Bellatrix was no fool. The dark witch was very much aware how much depended on this very meeting. So, she remained the paragon of calm as she flawlessly navigated the myriad of written and unwritten social rules of Japanese magical society. She performed her part of the tea ceremony to the letter, addressed the Shogun and his following correctly and yet all the while carried herself with an air of utmost superiority.

Oh, Shogun Hanazono did his best to push back and she respected the old man for it, but she had to make it clear who was the one in charge here. If Japan wanted to be part of the Union, even with home-rule, he would _have_ to submit to her. Japan was one of the most pure-blooded nations in the wizarding world; being pure of blood was not only a perk, it was a requirement to do business at the highest level of government. That purity of blood would win her the day.

In fact, it was a member of the Shogun's court whom broke protocol. During the exchanging of gifts at the start of the signing, which was in fact a lovingly crafted armor of the Mahou Kishi modern wizarding samurai tailor-made to fit her size, she felt an uncomfortable crawling sensation in the back of her head. In a fit of rage, Bellatrix snapped her head towards the very aide who was attempting to perform legilimency on her before turning her ire to the Shogun.

"Do you treat all your honored guests like this?!" the dark witch snapped, causing Hermione to wince. "You insult me!"

The dark witch was satisfied to see a moment of terror cross the Shogun's ancient features, before he turned to his aide and let out a curse which the translator didn't interpret. The aide hung his head and slowly walked out of the room not to be seen again. Bellatrix wasn't sure what happened to the aide, but considering one of the guards stepped into the room later while sheathing his sword, she had a pretty good idea. Best thing yet, she had seen in the Shogun's face momentarily that he was probably the one whom had ordered the mental invasion. Best to put her foot down.

The rest of the ceremony, which included a lavish dinner before the inevitable signing of the treaty, went on without incident. Still, Bellatrix was most amused that Hermione was still nervously watching her every move and weighing her every word. ' _My, my, little dove,'_ Bellatrix thought while shooting her young girlfriend a look. ' _It's almost as if you don't trust me.'_

The joy and relief on Hermione's face was obvious when Bellatrix and Shogun Hanazono put their quills to the treaty which she and that Japanese lick-spittle had crafted, formally welcoming Japan as the newest member of the Walpurgis Union. She and Shogun Hanazono offered each other a final bow and left each other with a sense of mutual respect... even though she could see in his eyes that she had made it clear to him which one of them was the superior one.

Bellatrix started feel the boredom nip at her heels during the rather lengthy farewell ceremony, but was endeared by Hermione's sheer excitability which she could see from the corner of her eyes. Her girl was so close to jumping up and down with joy at this culmination of a month of non-stop negotiations, but was forcing herself to put a lid on it.

The dark witch was quite satisfied with herself as she strode into the palace garden, enjoying the fragrant smells of the painfully pink Sakura trees in bloom. As predicted, Hermione rushed to her side, wearing a smile so bright that it made her chuckle.

"You are _amazing_ ," Hermione whispered softly while hooking her arm around hers and walking with her through the garden.

"Well," Bellatrix smirked as she held up her hand. "Are you really surprised?"

"Oh, stop it," Hermione said. "I mean it, Bella. You avoided every trap and followed every social rule to the letter. And I was really impressed by the way you handled that breach of protocol when the aide performed legilimancy on you. Did you see how quickly he was removed from the hall? I didn't see him afterwards."

' _That's because he's quite dead,'_ Bellatrix thought, but decided against telling Hermione for the sake of not ruining her good mood. "Swiftly and decisively. It's obvious that the Shogun ordered it. In all honesty, though, if I were in his position, I might have done the same. Regardless, the Walpurgis Union has a new member... and the rest of the world will tremble."

"Hopefully, they'll tremble enough to accept our offer of peace," said Hermione. "How are your headaches, Bella? You seem better."

Bellatrix shifted uncomfortably and showed Hermione her palms. Or, more to the point, the bloodied marks in her palms where she had violently dug her fingernails into her flesh. A sympathetic hiss sounded from Hermione. "I've gotten a bit better at channeling my pain. I bet you never noticed I had three attacks during the ceremonies."

"Three?!" Hermione blinked. In truth, Bellatrix was rather endeared by her concern, if not a little worried that the girl might pity her. "They're increasing? Have you seen a healer?"

"I have," Bellatrix shrugged as the couple walked through the garden, the warmth of the sun on their skin while they drew closer to the pleasantly sweet-fragrant trees. "They can't really find anything wrong with me and suggested it's stress related. They're probably right, but I have no mind for rest. Really, little dove, there's no reason to be worried. I've had them before and they come and go. Right now, they're going."

Her girl was less than convinced, sweet thing that she was, but seemingly accepted that answer. "Well," she spoke softly. "If you're sure."

"Trust me, I've suffered worse at Azkaban. I'd rather discuss the gifts," said Bellatrix. "They were really generous, I feel. That armor is going to look nice in my office, though I feel I should try it on at least once."

Hermione nodded. "I have to admit, I was really impressed with the quality of the Shogun's gifts. You can really tell they were honored by our offer to have them join the Union, but they tried to keep it subtle in order to get some extra concessions. In the end, we are the ones who win the most. Did you see the maquette of that vacation home?"

Ah, yes, the vacation home Hermione was so impressed with. A luxurious traditional Japanese style house at the side of a private lake surrounded by lush green forests, quiet and far away from any wizarding or Muggle prying eyes. It was a lovely gesture, she felt, but Bellatrix knew just what to do with it.

"It's all yours," said Bellatrix while winking at her.

"Come again?" Hermione blinked, snapping her head towards her as if questioning if she'd heard her correctly.

"Yours," said Bellatrix again. "A reward for the hard work you've done on behalf of the Walpurgis Union. Unlike Snape, _I_ reward excellence."

"Oh, really, no, I couldn't." Modestly. It was obvious from her expression that she really wanted it.

"Oh, please," Bellatrix hissed while spinning Hermione around and pressing her against her. Her warmth, her scent, her softness. The dark witch reached out and gently stroked her girlfriend's cheek. "We're not going for this stupid Japanese tradition of refusing twice before accepting the third offer. You've earned it and you will take it."

That removed all doubt from Hermione; the dark witch could see in the girl's brown eyes that her mind was already considering a multitude of possible interior designs. "Thank you," said Hermione. "I've never really had a home of my own."

"You do now," said Bellatrix. "Oh, and I do believe there is some sort of tradition about couples kissing underneath a blooming Sakura tree? I do believe I wish to honor that tradition."

A smile later, their lips touched. There was a certain amount of distaste in kissing Hermione while she was in the guise of Samantha Morris and though the Dark Witch would normally utterly refuse to kiss Hermione when polyjuiced, today was special enough to warrant an exception. Bellatrix quickly found that her lips tasted the same and her tongue was just as nimble as that of the 'real' Hermione. Hermione threw all her joy and enthusiasm into the kiss and Bellatrix almost swooned when she felt Hermione's nails sliding over her back.

When they finally broke the kiss, Bellatrix pressed her forehead against Hermione's. "Tell you what," Bellatrix chuckled. "That tea really was dogshit."

"It was awful!" Hermione laughed.


	22. A Shoggoth On The Roof

**29th of March 2004 – Unknown location**

_Like many nights before, Hermione found herself floating inside the Tunguska temple. These days, it had gotten to a point that Hermione had become self-aware enough to know that she was living a nightmare the moment she found herself in said temple. However, that didn't make the experience any less disturbing. In fact, it tended to make it moreso. It wasn't a lucid dream, after all. She had no control over the dream, and could only bend to whatever whim throw towards her._

_Once again, she was floating over the pit. But at least it seemed she wouldn't be sacrificed today._

" _Hermione," she heard the voice of Bellatrix. When she looked up, Hermione all but screamed. Her love was floating in front of her, looking utterly terrified and sorrowful. But that wasn't what had startled Hermione so. What scared her, were the multitude of thin organic tendrils coming from her head. Her eyes followed the tendrils; they were long, pulsated and led down into the darkness of the pit below, causing Hermione to reach the conclusion that the tendrils weren't sported from Bellatrix's brain, but rather were invading it._

" _I tried to save you," Bellatrix whimpered. "But it won't let me. IT WON'T LET ME!"_

_The dark witch was nothing more than a marionette, limbs and body moving without her control or consent._

" _She's right, you know," sounded the familiar voice of Severus Snape. Turning her head, Hermione saw her old potions professor calmly floating next to her, as if seated in an invisible chair. Like Bellatrix, Snape had several tendrils invading his skull, but didn't seem to mind as much. "There's really nothing you can do. It's best to just let it happen and not think about it. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Unfortunately, those are not rules you play by. You always had to be that insufferable know-it-all."_

_Hermione tried to think of an angry retort to shout back at him, but was too distraught by the look of utter defeat on Bellatrix's now gaunt and haunted face._

" _Tell me," said Snape. "Exactly what do you think you have accomplished here? How long do you think it will last? It is so close to Its goal now. You're really too late to stop It."_

" _Who is 'It'? What_ is _Its goal!" Hermione demanded. "Just... make me understand."_

" _Would you not rather enjoy the placid island of ignorance for the few more moments that it will last you? Or do you willingly seek the knowledge that will destroy your sanity and grind that fragile little know-it-all mind of yours to a pulp?"_

" _And become complacent like you?!" Hermione shouted back. "Knowledge is power."_

" _KNOWLEDGE IS DOOM!" Bellatrix shrieked in agony. It pained Hermione to see her lover like this, but in her heart she knew it wasn't real. Her Bellatrix was safe and sound in the real world. She_ had _to be._

" _Well," said the Snape-thing. "Don't say I didn't warn you. You were always more trouble than you were worth, miss Granger."_

_Immediately, Hermione felt her body grow heavy as she quickly started to fall into the pit below. This wasn't strange, since all these nightmares seemed to end with her falling into oblivion. But... it was different this time. The pit had turned into a gaping maw with endless rows of razor-sharp teeth. Hermione barely had time to shriek in terror before the maw closed around her to tear and grind the living flesh off her bones in an instant._

Hermione started awake, panting heavily while drenched in sweat. Sure, the nightmares were getting more frequent and intense, but this... this was something else. She had actually _felt_ the teeth tearing into her body. Once again, she ended up having more questions than answers. It took her a few moments to calm herself and being in the safety of her own bedroom at Buyan Palace certainly helped.

Outside, it was snowing; oddly, watching the snowflakes wafting down along the panes of glass gave her a certain degree of comfort. Next to her lay a quietly sleeping Bellatrix. For once, her dark witch was enjoying a peaceful, quiet night. After taking a few deep breaths, Hermione ran her fingers through the dark witch's curly hair for a moment, only withdrawing quickly for fear of disturbing her peaceful slumber.

"Knowledge is power," Hermione whispered to herself as she quietly slipped out of bed. The pit in the tunguska temple; it featured in every single nightmare and it had been driving her bonkers. She had to know. She _had_ to know what was down there.

While quietly grabbing her clothes, Hermione started to rationalize what she knew was becoming an obsession. That pit had been the only thing on her mind for most of the past week; the official announcement of Japan joining the Walpurgis Union would be given in a few days and, with it, the sending out of the offer of peace. What would follow would be the most important and difficult negotiations of her entire life. Hermione _couldn't afford_ any distractions like that damnable pit and those horrid nightmares. If she knew what was down there, even if it was nothing, it would ease her troubled mind.

After placing a brief kiss on Bellatrix's cheek, Hermione slipped out of the private wing. It was approaching midnight. There were hardly any guards in the corridors as most of the night-shift guarded against suspicious behavior outside the palace and the few guards she did run into were easily fooled by the lie that she was taking a stroll because she couldn't sleep.

Hermione quickly found herself in Luna's office. She found it curious how the office of the head of intelligence nor any of the cupboards there were locked. Hermione gathered a broom and a stealth-cloak; though the latter wasn't nearly as good as Harry's invisibility cloak, it would effectively hide her among her surroundings much like a chameleon. After gathering her supplies, Hermione opened the drawer containing Luna's portkeys and tried to find the one she had used on her last December. Thankfully, Luna used all manner of distinctive objects; the piggy-bank in the shape of a hedgehog was quickly found.

After the usual unpleasant sensations of being forced through a thin tube, the magic deposited Hermione right in the middle of a very familiar cabin. So far, so good. Now, she had a fair idea where to find the Tunguska epicenter on a map and she knew it was within apparating distance from this cabin. So, with the help of a compass, two sets of maps and a divider caliper, she managed to figure out her location and the precise distance she had to fly by broom to get there.

Again, Hermione was in luck; the weather was favorable, the skies were clear and the moon was bright. Even so, the temperature was decidedly cold and she would need the help of a thick parka and magical warming spells to keep from freezing to death on her own broom. After gathering more supplies, including a magic rope and a set of omniculars, from the cabin, Hermione took to the skies. She zipped over the dark and snow-filled landscape of Syberia with tremendous speed, often looking through the omniculars and checking her compass to see if she was still headed in the right direction.

When she came upon the epicenter of the Tunguska Event, she almost completely overshot the temple as it was hidden from sight from the skies. Only after circling around for a bit and keeping a close eye out with her omniculars, was Hermione able to find it. She landed her broom behind a bank of snow and took out her omniculars to study the temple from a distance. There was absolutely no sign of life; Luna had told her that this place was only attended to on certain days in the year and it certainly seemed that way from the outside at least.

She dared approach the first obstacle in her quest; the massive double wooden doors. With some trepidation, she was wondering just how she was going to get them to open, when the massive doors suddenly started to slide open on their own. The moment she spotted this, Hermione dove to one side, throwing herself into a snowbank and scrambling to get out of sight of whoever could be opening the doors. She waited for what seemed to be an eternity, but nobody was coming out. After letting out a sigh of relief, Hermione surmised that these doors were magically enchanted to open whenever someone was near. Not exactly good security, but they could simply not be expecting strangers.

Feeling much like Orpheus descending into the depths of Hades, Hermione entered the temple. As she made her way through the dimly lit corridors, Hermione thought to herself just how incredibly stupid what she was doing was. Nobody knew where she had gone and if her dreams were any indication, her fate if discovered would be dire.

But she had to know. She was compelled to know. It was like all of her rationality had flown out the window, leaving only a raw _need_ to know.

She finally arrived to the central room with that horrible pit in the middle. There was not a soul in this entire temple and, if anything, that made this endeavor even eerier. " _Right, do what you came here to do and then get the hell out of here,"_ Hermione told herself.

For this part, Hermione had brought an enchanted rope. After fastening the harness, she threw the rope into the room. The rope found the nearest and strongest point to attach itself to and Hermione got ready to rappel down into the darkness below. Some months back, she and Luna had used the same type of enchanted rope and harness to rappel down one of the palace towers. That had been a fun distraction. This was infinitely more terrifying.

Using her legs to propel herself downwards more and more, Hermione feared she would run out of rope before she would reach the bottom of the pit. The deeper she got, the worse the smell of rotting flesh became. It made her wonder just how many bodies had been dumped down here over the years. The smell became so overwhelming that Hermione quickly cast a bubble-head charm on herself.

Finally, Hermione reached the bottom of the pit. She detached the rope from the harness and left it hanging. It was too dark to see, so she took out her wand and whispered a quick Lumos. What she saw gave her the urge to vomit; dozens of bodies in various states of decay, unceremoniously tossed into this pit and forgotten. Hermione briefly wondered if their families would even know of their dire fate. Whatever creature the madmen of this cult had sacrificed these poor people too, it hadn't deigned to come fetch its dinner.

Hermione looked around and found nothing in the pit at a first glance, almost to her relief. She was about to go up the rope again when she saw a greenish light-source in the middle of the pit. Curious, yet careful, Hermione stepped over the corpses to approach it.

The 'thing' was some sort of ball of sickly green light suspended above the ground at eye-height. It was about the size of an apple and flickered erratically. It looked to be very much like one of those 'rifts' Luna's mother had described in her diary. This must have been what the Durmstrang experiment had produced.

The closer Hermione came to rift, the more she felt drawn to it. This... this was why she was here. This was what she had seen in her dreams. Perhaps, it was even the cause of it... Didn't the tendrils she had seen reach into the pit? Was this where they came from?

Closer and closer she stepped, bathing herself in eerie green light. When she was close enough, she screamed when images were suddenly burned into her mind. The pit faded out of sight and she was suddenly... somewhere else. Past, present and future blended together as her mind was being assaulted so an endless array of images, feelings and events. The young witch had to steel herself to try to make sense of it all while she felt as if her head was about to explode.

The image of... a prison? Ah, she understood; she was looking through the eyes of someone or something else and her mind was trying to make sense of what was conveyed. Imprisoned for eons by others of Its kind. Patient. Used to playing the long game. It waited for the Earth to cool. It waited for life to flourish, then It offered its power to a select few and the first wizards were born. The wizards experimented with this great gift and with every spell cast, It watched and waited.

But magic was not Its generous gift. It was not benevolent. The magic, Its power, warped the reality that trapped It. With every spell cast, the cracks of Its prison widened ever so slightly. It watched as the wizards used magic for everything and anything. And waited. As the cracks became larger and larger, so did Its impatience. It wanted to be free. And It found that war and conflict were the surest ways to speed up this process. It was so close to freedom. Direct intervention became necessary.

Hermione looked on his horror when images of Bellatrix and Snape, both having just died, flooded her mind. What should be impossible with normal magic, It simply did; It yanked their souls back from the limbo of their peaceful afterlives and forced them back into their bodies against their will... but not without some alterations. Both were granted different and greatly enhanced powers, and since they were were already at each other's throats, they were sent back to make war with each other.

Images of the horrible, horrible war which had been waged assaulted her mind. This creature, It was living madness. Living chaos. And It wanted to be unleashed.

Ouroboros wanted to be freed.

At that moment, Hermione slipped into the future and watched in horror as It escaped. It was as if billions of voices screamed at once as reality was torn asunder. Matter, both living and inert, was being reshaped by madness on a whim. Humans transformed into malformed mockeries of themselves, twisting so horribly that they weren't even recognizable as anything from this Earth. Flesh was being molded as easily as clay by the whims of the chaotic maelstrom swirling all around her.

The longer and further she looked, the more she felt her sanity slipping. Hermione was a creature of logic and reason, but what she saw defied comprehension. Sheer randomness, matter and energy blending, creation and uncreation at will and whim.

What she was seeing was the unmaking of reality. The death of causality. And without causality, time itself lost all meaning. She felt herself slipping further into insanity when simply trying to comprehend the ramifications of what she was seeing.

And It spread. It spread and it kept spreading. To other worlds, to other galaxies, to other universes. Like a cancerous growth, Ouroboros would consume _everything_ in Its path and remake it in Its own chaotic image _._

Her senses were assaulted as she suddenly found herself floating over an ocean of undulating flesh; deafening cries like that of a thousand dying animals filled her ears as the flesh was a rough fusion of humans and animals molded together like some horrific clay sculpture. Partially swallowed limbs swayed and reached out as the maddened creatures attempted to escape from their fleshy prison. Pain, terror, hopelessness... anger. The limbs reached out for her. If they could not escape their torment, they wanted her to suffer the same fate.

Odd sensations caused her to look down at herself, but what she saw caused her to scream; it started with her fingers, the flesh and the bone were stretching outwards while shifting and changing shape. At first she thought that her eyes were deceiving her, but she actually _felt_ her own body being altered both on the outside and the inside. Flesh became as fluid as liquid and Hermione became acutely aware that she had to pull herself away from the rift while she still had the willpower to keep her own form and before these unwanted changes would become of a more permanent nature. It was surprisingly hard to pull away from the rift, but somehow she managed. An unseen force tugged at both her body and soul, not wanting her to escape.

Hermione fell into utter terror and despair, but it was about to get even worse. To her horror, she felt she had drawn the attention of something powerful… something utterly unknowable. She had seen through Its eyes, if It even had eyes... but she was in no hurry to see 'It' itself, if she could even comprehend Its form.

But It was turning Its gaze to her regardless. She tossed herself to the ground and squeezed her eyes shut as the room was being filled with intense light of colors her mind could not process. And the sounds. Oh, god, the sounds. Like a thousand angry dogs barking at once through a distorted filter. Its thoughts brushed hers as Hermione crawled on all fours to get back to the rope and climb up, overwhelming her with Its utter alien nature.

She _had_ to get out of there.

Hermione scrambled over rotting corpses, smearing gore all over her clothes, but didn't care. Keeping her eyes shut, she reached the wall and frantically felt around for the rope. In desperation to keep the sounds from driving her to the brink of madness, she tried to find a way to drown out the cacophony. Oh, part of her wanted to just give up and stop struggling. To give into the madness as it would be an escape of sorts; to simply let her mind be destroyed. It would be the easiest way to let go of everything.

Instead, she focused on a nursery rhyme her grandmother had sang to her when she was little. She remembered Lydia Granger, her doting grandmother, who'd lovingly sing to her whenever she felt sad, scared or lonely. She remembered the smile on her grandmother's face whenever she'd held her, her soothing voice, her loving eyes and found her focus to keep the madness at bay.

Her own voice became an anchor as she sang the rhyme just as her grandmother had done. " _London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down. London Bridge is broken down, My fair lady_."

Salvation! Hermione had found the rope.

" _Build it up with wood and clay, wood and clay, wood and clay. Build it up with wood and clay,_

_My fair lady._ "

Hermione attached the rope to her harness.

" _Wood and clay will wash away, wash away, wash away. Wood and clay will wash away,_

_My fair lady_."

She tapped the rope with her wand and it immediately started to coil itself, yanking her upwards.

" _Build it up with bricks and mortar, bricks and mortar, bricks and mortar. Build it up with bricks and mortar, my fair lady._ "

Thankfully, the influence of the rift was limited to the pit itself. As Hermione was being carried upwards, the sounds and the images started to wane. Yet even it being at the peripheral of her hearing sapped at her sanity, so she kept singing.

" _Bricks and mortar will not stay, Will not stay, will not stay, Bricks and mortar will not stay, My fair lady_."

Thankfully, she had reached the edge of the pit and started climb up, being mentally and physically exhausted. However, she quickly found out she was not alone. With a yelp, she found a cold hand grabbing her by the throat and yanking her up. Hermione was harshly slammed back onto the ground, landing with her back on hard stone. Having the wind knocked out of her, she was ill prepared to deal with one of the misshapen cultists.

Unmasked.

Hermione screamed as this cultist obviously had spent too much time communing with the rift... and had been changed by it. His body was roughly human-shaped, but his features, his face... god, it was gone. Misshapen, mutated flesh had replaced it, with random prehensile tendrils haphazardly spread over what was once a human countenance. Not unlike the images she had seen of humanity's possible future.

The young witch struggled but the thing was too strong and it was painfully obvious that he was not happy to 'see' her here. Two hands wrapped around her throat and started to squeeze. Hermione fought for air as her throat was being crushed, flailing her arms wildly against her captor. Spots started to appear in front of her eyes; the end was near.

Then, her fingertips grazed against something cold and hard at the side of the creature's belt. The dagger! Hope filled her as she realized she might have a chance to survive this after all. The creature was so busy trying to strangle her that he didn't notice the knife being lifted from his belt. As darkness was about to claim her, she took the dagger in one hand and rammed it into the side of his neck with her last remaining strength.

Warm blood gushed over her as the creature gurgled, misshapen hands clawing at the dagger sticking out of the side of his neck. After Hermione gasped for precious air, she kicked her legs out, hitting the creature against the side of the knee. With an inhuman gutteral moan, the creature toppled over the side of the pit and let out a mouthless scream which was violently cut short by a sudden stop as he hit the bottom.

Hermione lay there for a moment, gasping for air a big longer in an attempt to recover. But she had no time to waste; there might be others!

The young witch quickly gathered the rope and all her other equipment and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her footsteps echoed through corridor and she exploded out of the wooden double doors into the cool air of the night. She ran to her broom, grabbed it and apparated away. Hermione landed in a heap on ground of the cabin, holding her sore throat and trying to process what she had just seen. God. Her mind was still reeling from the implications.

All her life she had believed that magic was something beautiful. A magnificent gift, a power which defied Muggle science, the stuff of fantasy and fairy-tales. But it had all been a lie. A terrible, horrible lie. All that beauty, all that wonder. And it was nothing more than the scraps thrown at them from the table by a malicious cosmic horror made from pure reality-altering madness.

She herself had contributed to the unmaking of reality like all wizards had. Magic was nothing more than a venus fly-trap; the bright lure of a monstrous anglerfish. Luna'd been right... there were monsters hiding in the dark corners of the Earth. And humanity was their prey.

And as a despairing Hermione finally noticed that she was not alone in this cabin, she threw herself into the arms of the second person, not even caring who it was. She pressed her head against the second persons' chest and wept uncontrollably. Then and there, it was just too much for her to handle.

"Hermione," Luna whispered in response. "What happened? What did you see?"

"It's true," Hermione whimpered. "You were right. It's all true. Oh, god, I wish that it wasn't."

* * *

**30th of March 2004 – Riga, Latvia – Walpurgis Union Hospital for Intelligence agents**

Luna had taken Hermione to a small and covert hospital in Riga to recover from her injuries. The bruises on her throat were gone and her insides didn't hurt anymore. Furthermore, she had been given some draughts to calm her nerves; it hadn't fully sunk in at the time but aside from seeing the death of reality itself, something had attempted to violently kill her.

Luna was at her side, sitting at her bed while observing the healers and the nurses carefully. "We need to return you to the palace before morning. There could some... awkward... questions otherwise. Don't worry about the hospital staff. They know how to keep quiet."

Hermione could only nod. "Luna," Hermione whispered. "Thank you. I... I really don't know what I was thinking. I just felt... drawn to go to the temple. I can't explain otherwise. And when I stood in front of the double doors while they slid open, I..."

"What?!" Luna's eyes grew wide as she jumped off her chair and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "The doors opened for you?! I've been trying to get in for ages, but never found a way! I... Tell me what happened inside. From start to finish and omit no details. Anything could be important."

Hermione did as Luna ask and recanted the tale from memory as much as she could. The vision itself had already blurred in her memory, causing details to fade. As hard as she tried, she could not recall some of the things she had seen and heard, and trying to remember started to cause headaches. She ended with the tale of the man... no, the _monster_ whom had tried to kill her and the dire conclusion she had come to draw.

"Magic," Hermione looked away from Luna, pure defeat on her voice. "Magic is a trap. A lure of power. But.. you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I suspected," said Luna. "Power is never given freely. When my father told me the whole truth about my mother's death, and when I started looking into it, it honestly didn't take me long piece together the clues. Like you, I didn't want to believe it at first, but the truth was staring me right in the face. I couldn't deny it. So, I had to learn more, do more research. To scour ancient texts, dig up lore both forgotten and forbidden."

"That is why you defected to the Walpurgis Union," Hermione concluded. "I remember you once telling me that you were 'where you are supposed to be'."

"That was one part of it, yes," said Luna. "But don't get me wrong; I like being a spymaster and I'm good at it. This is a position I could never have held in the Alliance. I'm not Slytherin, but I am not without ambition. Also, I actually find the ideals of the Union to be rather appealing. Regardless, having the resources of the Union and dozens of agents at my disposal, while operating independently has been a tremendous help researching Ouroboros and Its hold over the wizarding world. I wasn't sure what Its plans were for us, but... it seems we're all tools in Its gambit to gain Its freedom."

Upon hearing this again, a wave of despair washed over Hermione. There was really no way to stop this from happening. Even if there were people who believed her, she doubted that wizards and witches would be eager to give up their power. "What are we going to do?" Hermione buried her head in her hands. "What are we going to tell people? ' _Oh, please stop using all magic because if you use it too often, a cosmic horror might break free from its prison and devour us all'_. Do you have any idea what that sounds like?!"

Luna's only response was to raise her eyebrows.

"Right, forget I said anything. Point being, who's ever going to believe us? I didn't believe you and I _knew_ you," Hermione said. "I've seen what the creature has in store for us and I still don't want to believe it!"

Luna put her hand to her lips. "A lot of things are falling into place now. If magic is the key to freedom, how do you get people to use more of it? You instigate violent conflicts. Open any history book on the wizarding world. The number of conflicts has steadily increased as the centuries progressed. Our war is the latest and biggest one. I think now that Ouroboros is getting closer to the finish line, It's starting to get impatient."

Hermione had a horrible thought. "The war we're fighting now is largest scale war ever fought in the wizarding world. It's mind-boggling to think just how many offensive and defensive spells are being used all over the world every single day. Are you telling me this was all... instigated?"

With a hand to her lips, Luna started pacing through the room. "When you strip this entire war down to its starting point, two people lie at the heart of it; Bellatrix and professor Snape. It was behind their banner that entire nations flocked. It is the both of them who are the driving force behind this entire conflict. Your dream is starting to make a lot more sense."

Hermione closed her eyes. She had told Luna of her dream and the images of Bella with tendrils sticking out of her head still made her blood run cold.

"Professor Snape was dead hours before Voldemort's final assault. He was dead as dead could be," said Hermione. "Bellatrix fell to mrs. Weasley. She was dead too. I watched the aurors carry her body away. When they... came back, we all assumed that they had faked their deaths somehow. Any why wouldn't we? Bringing someone back from the dead is something regular magic can't do."

"Makes sense," Luna said. "Bellatrix and Snape came back from the dead, but they came back slightly different. We can both tell that Bellatrix is far more charismatic; regardless of who she is and used to be, people _want_ to follow her."

"Snape is more eerie… more intimidating," said Hermione. "He gets people to do things by simply glaring at them. Trust me, I've been the target of his glares more than once."

"Powers given to them by Ouroboros," said Luna. "To wage Its war for It."

"Does that mean..." Hermione spoke with a small voice. "Bella doesn't have free will?" The implications were staggering. If Bella was nothing more than a meatpuppet for some horrid creature, what about everything they had shared? Was it even real? "Could Ouroboros be possessing her and Snape somehow?"

"I don't think so," said Luna. "No, if It could have possessed Bellatrix and Snape directly, It would have. Let's think back about the analogy of the anthill. Our minds are infinitely more complex than that of an ant. We can observe them, we can influence them to a degree, but we can't crawl into their heads or make them do our bidding. We are to the ants as Ouroboros is to us. Our minds are as alien to Ouroboros as Its mind is to ours!"

Hermione nodded, but was not exactly relieved. "It still doesn't answer my question. Does she truly love me?" Months ago, she would have been relieved if something else had influenced Bella to make romantic advances on her, but now after what they had shared the thought alone made her want to break out in tears.

"Remember, I've been part of her court far longer than you have. It might be most accurate to say that she might be leashed. What she's doing, what she's like. It's all her. Her decisions. Her feelings." Luna looked at Hermione and offered her a supportive smile, having apparently picked up on Hermione's distress. "Her desires, her dreams. But the moment she steps out of line..."

"Her attacks," Hermione realized. "She mentioned her headaches were getting worse."

"Antonin and Rookwood told me her attacks used to be a lot worse, and she got them quite often," said Luna, putting a finger to her lips as she looked away for a moment, lost in thought. "This was before my defection, before the Walpurgis Union was even formed. I suppose it's a way to influence her behaviour and to keep her waging war."

"I think Snape gets them too," said Hermione. "I didn't make sense of it at the time, but I've been in several meetings where he'd suddenly grasp his head and then went a complete one-eighty of what he was saying earlier. But Bella... Bella's fighting them! I've given her my plan to make peace with the Alliance months ago! That's why here attacks are getting worse. It's because she's fighting back!"

"Likely because of you," said Luna.

That made Hermione smile and feel sad at the same time. First there was an insane wizard lording over her, now a monstrosity from beyond the realms of imagination. God, her lover was probably the unluckiest woman in existence. Why Bella? She remembered her lover's words of freedom; she was so happy that for the first time in her life, she was completely free to do what she wanted to do. And yet at the same time, her Bella wasn't free at all.

"Bellatrix must have had certain traits Ouroboros found desirable in furthering Its plans," said Luna. "Think about it, she's intelligent, focused, devoted, a natural leader, but also ruthless, cruel and capricious. Instead of nurturing her negative traits, like Voldemort did, Ouroboros nurtured her positive ones. Likewise with Snape; he wanted nothing more than to protect the wizarding world from itself and his distrust of Muggles puts him as diametrically opposed to Bellatrix's ideology. But positive traits can be twisted as well. You see the results all around you."

"Why can't she be herself?" Hermione whispered and felt a tear roll over her cheek.

"Arguably, she's closer to her true self than Voldemort would ever have allowed," said Luna.

"She deserves better than being used as a meatpuppet for some... _thing_ ," Hermione spat. "I want to save her. I want to save everybody!" God, she was weeping for Bellatrix Black. Such odd turns life could take.

Luna sat down in the chair and nodded grimly. "I hope we can."

"How do we stop it?" Hermione asked.

Her platinum blonde friend looked up ever so slowly, her eyes meeting Hermione's for just a moment. "I... I don't know."

Hermione blinked once, twice, before she burst forward in a fit of rage. She grabbed Luna by the shoulders and squeezed tightly. "What do you mean you don't know?!" Hermione raged. "You are supposed to have all the answers!"

"I've never been able to get as far inside the temple as you did. I know as much as you do at this point. All I know is that you have a role to play. I don't even know if it's for good or for ill. Every prediction mentioning your name is vague. If there are any answers to find, they are in the Dead Grimoire. It is the sum of all research on the creature from ancient times up until the 18th century and I suspected it was in the temple. Thanks to your escapade with the cult, I now know that I've been barking up the wrong tree. There's more leads to focus on, which I will," said Luna.

Hermione nodded grimly. "Getting the Union and the Alliance to stop fighting is more important than ever now. No pressure. Ouroboros will still be the sword of Damocles hanging over our heads. I just hope that book will hold the answers we seek. I don't see how we can fight that creature otherwise."

Luna played nervously with the cuffs of her uniform's sleeves. "Yes," said Luna. "I hope so too. Stopping the war will buy us precious time."

"There is hope," said Hermione. "You said that our minds are as alien to it as its is to us. That means we can never understand it, but it can never understand _us_ either. That gives us room to maneuver."

Her hand was patted by Luna. "Let's get you back to the palace. I'll send my agents out to explore several leads I have on the book. You focus on buying us time. We might just live through this yet."

Hermione was about to respond when she suddenly noticed something from the corner of her eyes. Something dark and eerily formless sitting on the ceiling. But when she looked at it, it was gone. Just as quickly, her head was being yanked back after Luna had roughly gripped her by the chin. "Ignore them!" there was an intensity in Luna's response which startled the young witch. "If you acknowledge them, you will allow them to find you more quickly."

Hermione nodded at Luna. From the corner of her eyes, she could just see the formless shape slithering over the ceiling, stopping right above her bed,

This time, Hermione didn't look.

* * *

**30th of March 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Bellatrix and Hermione's bedroom**

By the time Hermione was returned to the palace, she could already hear birds tweeting outside while the slight light of dusk settled over the snow-covered palace garden. Hermione was emotionally and physically exhausted by what she had gone through and what she had learned. For most of her short life, she had experienced conflict but never before had any situation seemed so hopeless. What could be done when magic itself was your greatest enemy?

She still attempted to look at it in a rational manner; maybe her senses had betrayed her? Maybe it was all some sort of hallucination. But even when thinking rationality, all evidence again pointed to that horrific truth.

She was close to dropping on the floor when she entered her bedroom and saw the wonderful, beautiful Bellatrix sleeping so peacefully in their lovely bed. Right away, Hermione felt like she was going to burst into tears, but simply had no energy left to do so. Her clothes were quickly shed, and Hermione was so incredibly relieved to feel the softness of the sheets surrounding her.

Hermione quickly shifted to press against Bellatrix's back, enjoying her warmth as she snaked an arm across her waist and pressed her cheek against her shoulder. "Mmmmmmm," Bellatrix groaned groggily as she started stoking Hermione's arm. "Where'd you go?"

"Bathroom," Hermione lied, hoping Bellatrix was too fatigued to notice. Hermione held her close while enjoying the smell of her hair and the feeling of Bella's warmth. "Could we sleep in? I'm so tired."

"Hmmmmm," moaned a sleepy Bellatrix. "Sounds good. Bugger everything else for a bit."

"I love you," Hermione whispered softly.

A pleased smile crossed Bellatrix's sleepy expression. "Hm, I love me too."

That caused Hermione to snort. That was just such a Bellatrix thing to say. Self-loathing was not in her dictionary. God, in that moment, Bellatrix was just so beautiful to her.

"I'm going to save you, Bella," Hermione whispered softly. "I swear, I'm going to save you."

"Hmmm," yawned a very sleepy Bella. "That's nice..."

And so, she and Bellatrix lazied around in bed until far beyond noon. Utter bliss was sorely needed. Even if baleful whispers kept trying to invade the silence of their private bedroom from the edge of Hermione's hearing.


	23. Looking for Freedom

**7th of April 2004 – Norwich, UK – Office for War Intelligence**

Harry Potter was sat at his desk, looking at his ill-fated plan to infiltrate the Walpurgis Union. More specifically, Finland. For weeks he had been carefully planning an insertion and possible exit along with the Granger family. He'd been calling in favors , requisitioning magical items to disguise himself and finding extra intel on Walpurgis forces active in and nearby Turku. All while doing his utmost to fly under the radar; tipping off the wrong people in the Alliance could be catastrophic, after all.

All that was put on hold when reports of Japanese Spellswords arriving at multiple fronts started pouring in. Spellswords, like the ancient samurai of old, were magical knights known for their ruthlessness and ferocity in battle. Worse yet, the Japanese magical army used a variety of magical creatures as shock troops. The reports stated they had brought scores of Tengu, Kamaitachi, various Oni and at least one terrifying Gashadokuro. The panic this caused among the politicians of the Alliance had put any of his plans to secretly infiltrate the Union on an indefinite hold.

Though they were trying their best to keep a lid on it for the time being, he knew a lot of people feared a new offensive after a few months of relative quiet. He sighed wistfully at his drafted plan, worrying once more for Hermione and her family.

"Damn this bloody war," he whispered as he tossed the plan in a drawer of his desk with a measure of disgust and locked the drawer.

He was just pouring over a report of sightings at the Hungarian front, when Jennifer, one of the junior interns who sometimes worked on his support staff, rushed into his office. "Harry!" she yelled in an odd mixture of excitement and uncertainly. "You've got to see this!"

Frowning, Harry followed her out when she rushed back to the members of the intelligence office gathering around a set of communication mirrors being used by numerous field agents. Through the cacophony of voices, he managed to puzzle out that there had been a high-level delivery to the desks of all Alliance Ministers of Magic. When he heard what it was, his jaw dropped to the ground.

"Does... does Snape know about this?" he asked. Only to be answered that Snape was already on his way to the Ministry.

* * *

**7th of April 2004 – London, UK – Ministry of Magic**

Severus Snape walked the halls of the Ministry of Magic with consummate calm, unlike the many Ministry workers who were running back and forth like headless chickens. The state of panic they were in evoked past memories of the early days of the war, when Bellatrix had first emerged and nations either fell or flocked to the newly founded Walpurgis Union. There was the same expression of uncertainly and fear on their faces, that same air of doom hung looming over them.

Snape simply ignored them, as he had then. They were as unimportant as they were vexing. His business was with the Minister. Thankfully, the peons realized this and didn't bother him. In fact, they were giving him a very wide berth, just the way he liked it.

He had to admit, though, that things hadn't been going well for the Phoenix Alliance as of late. Following Australia leaving the Alliance, Bellatrix had a few days ago made a rather flashy and vainglorious announcement that the formerly neutral Japan had joined the Walpurgis Union.

Immediately afterwards, there had been some rather overt troop movements. Now, he had to amid he had a grudging respect for Luna Lovegood and the network she had built, so he knew better than to think this wasn't deliberately planned. No, Bellatrix wanted everybody on the Alliance borders to see the Japanese Spellswords being deployed. Known for their ferocity in battle, this was a severe blow to the already shattered morale of the Alliance troops. The days have rarely seemed darker.

He assumed that the UK Minister had asked him to confer with him about the state of the war and he was ready to assure him that this meant nothing. Though the balance of power had been deeply disturbed, he had plans to win back Australia and was working on a scheme to trick the Americans into joining the war on their side.

Snape ignored the protests of the undersecretary and threw the door into the Minister's office right open. The Minister, a rather rotund man named Nobby Knight, was a muggle-born lickspittle who was endlessly more pliable than Kingsley Shacklebolt had even been. Snape should know; he had had a major hand in fabricating the scandal which had forced the troublesome Shacklebolt out of office, after all.

"Severus," Knight gulped when he saw him. Snape offered a greeting which was barely a grunt while he stood in front of his desk with arms crossed. "Great, this day was already _perfect._ "

"I take it you are not happy to see me?" replied Snape. "You _asked_ me to come."

"That was before I was getting chewed out by prime minister Blair who's very worried about the effect our war is having on the stability of the EU," said Knight. "Eight Wallie nations will officially join the EU on the first of May, as you know. Bellatrix's agents have had their hands in this and now everybody's favorite Dark Lady has voting power in the EU through her connections with the Muggle governments of those nations. That's yet another edge she has over us."

Snape sighed heavily. This pathetic foolish man was a useful pawn, but sometimes it was better to have a politician with some backbone. And Nobby's backbone was made out of marshmellow if he let a muggle prime minister intimidate him as such.

"Inconsequential," Snape replied resolutely. "What these Muggles do should not concern us. Bellatrix is playing the long game, but as soon as she is removed..."

"Have you looked at our projections lately?" Nobby dared to interrupt, which earned him a stern glare. "Erm, sorry, sir, I, uhm... Let's just say that the casualty reports and our estimated projections are not in our favor."

"It isn't the first time we've faced difficult times," Snape replied. "So your numbers are in the red. This is not a time lose ourselves in spineless panic."

"It's not that," said Nobby and handed him diplomatic communique. It was a piece of parchment in a rather gaudy looking thick cardboard folder with the gilded emblem of the Union printed on it, along with a tasteless black tassel attached to the corner. But as soon as he let his eyes fall on the parchment, he let out a brief grunt.

"She cannot be serious," he snarled before throwing the folder on Nobby's desk, causing the nervous man to wince.

"Every Minister in the Alliance received an invitation. The conference starts tomorrow."

Silence.

"You are actually considering this?" His voice was low as he towered dangerously over this pathetic wretch of a man. "Bellatrix is tricking you, just like she always does. And you are letting her get away with this?"

"What would you have us do, Severus?" Nobby glowered back. "We've been at war for _five_ years non-stop. Our people are tired and battered while Bellatrix has a new batch of fresh troops, including a score of _giant skeletons!_ She's offering us a way out. Peace in our time, Severus."

Typical. Choosing this time to grow a spine.

"The others are going. This is a chance, Severus," said Nobby. "The details of the conference are in the invitation. We want your people to handle shared security with officers of the Wallies and the locals. We're hoping you can make the arrangements soon."

Snape narrowed his eyes and snatched up the folder. "We'll see about that."

He sped out of the office without giving that wretch of a man so much as glance. So much for pliability. Snape was utterly seething while he strode towards the floo, glaring at any Ministry worker who dared to get too close to him. This offer of peace was nothing but trickery; they both knew this war wouldn't end until either he or Bellatrix would be dead.

He died once before and didn't find it to his liking. No. Bellatrix would have to go.

* * *

**8th of April 2004 – Reyjavik, Iceland – Icelandic Ministry Conference center**

Hermione was nervous, but really didn't know why. Her entire plan was coming together and the leaders of the Alliance Ministries had done exactly as she had predicted. She'd gone over the arrangements, the speeches and the rough draft of the treaty ad nauseum; they weren't demanding too much, but they weren't too lax either. Every single invited Alliance Minister of Magic had come which was in itself almost an assurance of success. Perhaps it was just the pressure of what was hanging over all of their heads should she fail today.

Iceland, one of the neutral nations, had agreed to host the peace-conference. The country had a tiny population of about three hundred thousand Muggles, which meant its wizarding population was slightly above two hundred. Add in the insignificant strategic value of Iceland and it eased a lot of minds that either side wouldn't try to steal the country from under them.

Hermione peeked through the curtains to see the floor. The Ministers and the diplomats were still gathered around the buffet chatting. The young witch got a good feeling when she saw them; the situation was anything but tense and spirits, while not high, were certainly not low.

Because there were so few wizards living in Iceland, they didn't have enough security forces to guard their conference center... which apparently did double duty as a festhall and a community center. With the happenings of the previous summit in Geneva fresh on everybody's mind, it was decided that security would be handled by all three groups involved. Icelandic aurors, all two of them, would head security, while either side added battalions led by respected and trusted commanders. The Walpurgis Union had sent Justyna Orlik, a Czech top auror. The Alliance had sent none other than Harry Potter himself.

Hermione wanted to so much to talk to him, to tell him she was alright and how sorry she was for not being able to contact him earlier. There was so much she wanted to tell him, even though she wasn't sure how he was going to react. At least Harry looked well; he was pleasantly chatting with Justyna as they were going over the summit's security measures another time.

"Relax," sounded the purring voice of Bellatrix as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist from behind and lay her chin on her shoulder. "You'll do wonderfully. You've been working towards this moment for months. Don't ruin it because you're hyperventilating during the conference."

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes. "I know," she chuckled. "I'm being a daft cow."

"Your words, not mine."

"Has he arrived yet?"

"No sign of Snivellus," Bellatrix smirked. "I suppose it's too much to ask for him to cut his throat while shaving, right? Just leave him for me to handle, little dove."

Hermione nodded. Even if she was wearing the face of Samantha Morris, she dreaded seeing him again. There was more to Hermione than just a face – there was her way of talking, her mannerisms, her expressions. Both Snape and Harry might be able to recognize her. For this reason, she had made sure that Snape was to be seated as far away from her as possible.

"You are going to do fine," Bellatrix said as Hermione turned around in her embrace and found herself being gently kissed on the lips. "For luck."

After taking a last deep breath, Hermione stepped forward to greet the Ministers. The tables were arranged in a triangular pattern with her, Snape, two aides and Bellatrix who were to be seated at either tips while the Alliance Ministers were seated so they would always be facing her. From the expressions, they were wary but carefully optimistic. One seat, however, was conspicuously empty.

"Welcome, all of you," Hermione spoke, trying to keep as calm and collected at possible. "My name is Samantha Morris. You may have heard my name being mentioned. For the past year, I have been our Dark Lady's chosen diplomatic representative and today it is my distinct honor to present to you an offer of peace sanctioned by the Dark lady. I hope you will appreciate this offer in the spirit that it is given. Too long have wizards and witches been at each other's throats. Good people on both sides of this conflict have suffered and bled. It is my sincere hope that today we will finally reach a resolution."

It was the that the double doors leading into the room were thrown wide open. And there he stood; Severus Snape looked much like the teacher he used to be. Black Robe, severe expression, eyes filled with disdain. Immediately, Hermione sensed the mood in the room change; pleasantly chatting Ministers froze up and avoided his stern gaze.

"Right," he started while imperiously striding towards the tables. "This _farce_ has gone on long enough!"

Hermione gulped, but kept her back straight and rigid. "Commander Snape," she greeted, polite yet firm. "Welcome to the summit. Would you please take your seat?"

"I will certainly not!" snarled Snape as he let his eyes roved over the gathers Ministers. "Cowards, all of you. When Bellatrix first rose to power, you came begging to me to protect you from her relentless advance. For five years, you have stood against her. And now you're being reeled in by an insipid offer for peace? Do you realize what will happen to all of us when Bellatrix gets free reign to do as she pleases? She threatens the very existence of our world!"

A slow clap sounded from backstage as Bellatrix emerged from behind the curtains. Her dress swished around her legs as she stepped forward, her lips curved into a mocking grin while her dark curly tresses danced with every step. "Ah, Snivellus!" she chuckled. "So good to see you again! What's the matter? You look upset. Has some mean kid stolen your dolly?"

A flash of irritation crossed Snape's features before she turned his baleful gaze fully on the dark witch. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing here, Bella!" he said before turning back to the Ministry. "You fools will seal the fate of all of us if you agree to this travesty! Do you honestly believe that she will leave you be? All you will do is give her time to regroup."

"The same could be said for your side!" Bellatrix snapped. "I'm taking as much of a risk as you are. Our soldiers, our people are tired of constant fighting. All of you!" she addressed the crowd. "Love me or hate me, you know that I always keep my promises! Do you really want to listen to this fanatical war monger, or will you listen to the eloquent voice of reason of my diplomat, miss Morris?"

" _I_ am the fanatic?" Snape narrowed her eyes. "That is rich coming from you, Bella."

"Really?" Bellatrix turned around to face the Ministers. "Last year, I was progressive enough to come to a summit to open a dialogue between our two sides on the highest level. _I_ was ready to talk, but Snivellus here saw an opportunity to attempt to assassinate me in an attack which ended the lives of both our high-level diplomatic corps. Your last top diplomat left, one Hermione Granger, was so disgusted with your actions that she left the wizarding world forever! So, who are you going to listen to? A leader who is willing to talk to end this conflict? Or a leader who would sabotage his own summit and sacrifice his own people?"

Oh, Hermione was impressed. She had to admit that Bellatrix really knew how to work a crowd; she had slammed Snape on two sensitive subjects and directed her ire on exactly the right person. She was making Snape look like a paranoid loon in front of the Ministers. Perhaps it would be enough to negate his supernatural influence.

"Need I remind you who Bellatrix is?" Snape addressed the ministers. "You-know-who's top-lieutenant. His self-proclaimed most loyal servant!"

"Yes," Bellatrix nodded, a dangerous light in her eyes. "I served the Dark Lord. BUT SO DID _YOU_!"

It was then that the Minister of Magic from Hungary, rose from his seat. Hungary was bordered by no less than six Walpurgis Union territories and was one of the most threatened nations in the Phoenix Alliance. This man, someone whom had everything to lose, tried to look as stern and defiant as possible as he turned to Snape. "Commander Snape," he spoke calmly. "Sit down."

Snape's eyes grew wide. "Do you really want to give in to this dictator? She _will_ come for all of you, to add you to her feudal empire."

"If we sign this treaty, both our sides will go our separate ways," said Bellatrix, a sense of calm on her voice. "We are many territories united under a single banner, a single government and a single leader. Together we stand strong. Recognize us as the sovereign nation we are. You might feed your people propaganda, but you know the truth as well as I; most if not all of the Ministries under my rule joined willingly."

Another Minister stood up; Germany. And another; Spain. Italy. "Severus," spoke the German Minister, a stocky woman wearing glasses. "Please sit down."

Hermione froze for a moment when Snape shot the woman as glare so intense she actually expected her to spontaneously combust. Then, the impossible happened; after a few tense moments, Snape slowly took his seat without saying so much of a word.

"Well," said Hermione. "Now that we're all here, let us begin. First of all, I wish to thank you for coming to this summit on such short notice. It is my sincere hope that this conference is seen in manner that we of the Walpurgis Union want this conflict to end as much as you do. For five long years, we have been bitter enemies. For five long years, our soldiers have faced each other in battle. Today, we hope to put an end to this conflict. We have come to you with an outstretched hand holding an offer of an immediate cease-fire and a treaty for a lasting peace."

"Ahum," spoke the Dutch Minister in an accented voice. "How much of our soul do you expect us to sell for this treaty, miss Morris? We are well aware that your new alliance with Japan has given you access to fresh and powerful troops to bolster your ranks."

Before Hermione could open her mouth, Bellatrix who had taken her seat besides her, narrowed her eyes as she glowered at the man. "Minister Droebel," she hissed. "It's a good offer. You're not going to get a better one. In fact, I have one stipulation."

"Hah, here it comes," Snape drawled.

"I want Denmark back!" Bellatrix rose to full height... which admittedly wasn't very high, but her expression of fury added much to the intimidation. "Denmark was one of the first nations to join us when we founded the Walpurgis Union. Losing Denmark is a stain on our pride. I promised my people I would come for them, and as I understand, the underground resistance is giving you a lot of trouble. The only reason why I haven't stormed your holdings to liberate Denmark with an army of Japanese Spellswords at my back is because Samantha asked me not to for the sake of her efforts to make peace."

"You talk of peace," spoke the Belgium Minister, "while holding a wand to our chest."

"I do," said Bellatrix. "Because if this conference fails, I will liberate Denmark by any other means necessary. Take that however you wish to interpret it."

Hermione could see the ministers getting nervous. This was good, even if Bellatrix was being a bit too harsh. Oh, Bellatrix was absolutely bluffing... for now... but so far the Ministers were buying it.

"Perhaps," spoke the Spanish Minister. "We could persuade you to do a trade? You are still occupying Switzerland. If you are willing to withdraw your forces from Switzerland, we could withdraw ours from Denmark." Honestly, Hermione wasn't surprised; Switzerland was surrounded on all borders by Alliance nations and a lot of troops had been turtled up in the country for months. Any attempts to dislodge them had failed and the surrounding nations likely feared an invasion.

A wry, humorless chuckle sounded from the end of the table. "You are signing your own death warrant," sounded Snape.

Bellatrix wasn't impressed with him. "Done," Bellatrix said quickly and resolutely.

And that was the best possible move to make. The Ministers' mood lightened considerably by Bellatrix's willingness to compromise. Discussions started, opening up the dialogues which were surprisingly cordial. Most people were just happy that there was a real chance for the fighting to stop.

The discussions shifted to the details of the treaty. Both sides agreed to a demilitarized zone along the length of the borders of Alliance and Union nations. Hermione became acutely aware that she was laying the groundwork for a second iron curtain in Europe, but this was truly the only way. This treaty would be the starting point of more dialogues in the future in times of lasting peace. Or, more accurately, a wizarding Cold War. It would take many years, decades even, to repair the deep wounds left by this devastating war, but there had to be a beginning.

By now Snape had gotten more quiet; he had realized as much as Hermione did that the signing of this treaty was, by now, inevitable and had resigned himself to this fate.

Territories in Europe were easily drawn. But the real kicker would be Africa. Africa was far more divided and there were smaller battles waging all over. The way Snape and Bellatrix were poured over the map of Africa bickering over the fate of their supporting nations drew a to her disturbing parallel with how European colonial powers had once divided the dark continent with pencils and rulers without any input from the people themselves.

"I won't give up my claim on Egypt," snarled Bellatrix while crossing her arms. "It's off the table as far as I'm concerned."

"I will gladly give you Egypt if you withdraw your claim on Nigeria," replied Snape.

"Deal."

That made Hermione bite her lip. That was not a good move on Bellatrix's part. Snape would be getting the better part of the deal there as Nigeria had ports and a thriving gold industry, while Bellatrix holding Egypt was mostly symbolic with it being a nation with a strong magical tradition. Thankfully, Bellatrix came back strikingly by laying claim on South Africa and Madagascar, while Snape turned to Mozambique and Sierra Leone.

This was turning out to be rather fortuitous; the Alliance and Union as they stood in Africa after the division would be a patchwork quilt with no distinct lines. This would discourage open warfare as supply lines would be harder to manage. During the discussions, however, Hermione noticed Snape shooting glances at her from afar, often frowning. For a moment, she worried that Snape might be starting to recognize her, so she did what she could to avoid eye contact at all costs while at the same time trying to maintain her composure. She couldn't allow herself to be nervous. Not now.

Then. The moment of truth finally came.

Behind the scenes, numerous scribes had been vigorously at work altering the treaty on the fly as new agreements were being reached and, finally, after hours of talking, all Ministers were presented with the completed text of the Treaty of Reykjavik. A historic moment and something which Hermione considered to be the single most monumental achievement of her life to date... a pity that it couldn't be done under her own name, but such was life.

She held her breath when, one by one, the Ministers opened the folder to reach for the parchment. Time seemed to freeze. Were they going to sign? Would there finally be peace today?

The Hungarian Minister was the first to sign the treaty. Then, others reached for their quills. That moment the signatures were being scribbled on the paper, magically bonded, was magnificent. Such relief washed over her, replaced with pure unadulterated pride.

She'd done it.

Against all odds, Hermione Granger had finally achieved peace between the Phoenix Alliance and the Walpurgis Union. Oh, she was no fool; there'd be plenty of work ahead, but ending the armed conflict was something she could only have dreamed of. To say that Hermione was floating on cloud nine would be an understatement.

Next to her, Bellatrix signed the treaty with a flourish in her ladylike calligraphy. For her Bella, today was a great victory as the Walpurgis Union had finally been official recognized as a sovereign nation-state free to make its own laws and sail its own course separate from the rest of the wizarding world.

Then there was Snape as he sat staring at the parchment as if it was something utterly foul. With his quill in hand, he merely stared at the paper. All heads turned towards him and, after apparently realizing there was no use in fighting it, he pressed the quill to the paper as hard as he could and slowly signed his name.

The select few members of the press which had been allowed to view the signing of the treaty stepped forward to take photographs of this momentous occasion. It was then that Bellatrix rose from her seat and strode over to Snape like the queen she now was. The woman was oozing smugness when she stood in front of him and extended her hand. "Come on, Severus," Bellatrix cackled briefly. "It's tradition."

Snape narrowed his eyes and slowly, very slowly, raised his hand to clasp Bella's. The dark witch smiled widely when Snape looked her in the eye without moving a single muscle in his face, his jaw, arm and hand tense during this very forced handshake.

"Smile for the nice people, Severus!" Bellatrix laughed while photographers happily took many shots. No doubt this picture would be on the front page of all the papers in the world tomorrow. No wonder Bellatrix had elected to wore her most gaudy and expensive dress to the summit. As happy as Bellatrix was, the more seething was Snape.

Aside from the sheer sense of accomplishment, Hermione felt the need to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. Suddenly, however, she was grabbed the shoulders and twisted around. When she opened her eyes, she had just enough time to see a grinning Bellatrix before the dark witch leaned in and pressed her lips on hers. While two loving arms held her close and Bellatrix quickly deepened the kiss, Hermione could hear a mixture of shocked gasps, eager laughs and the endless flashing of many cameras.

Apparently, the press was more interested in Bellatrix's love-life than they were in the peace-treaty. Typical.

* * *

**8th of April 2004 – Reykjavik, Iceland – Conference center, office floor**

Nerves. God, her hands were shaking worse than during the peace conference and, in truth, Hermione feared the outcome even more. She had asked Harry to join her under the guise of wanting to thank him for his efforts securing the conference, but Hermione was about to reveal herself to him.

The truth was about to come to life and Hermione feared nothing more than rejection.

While adrenaline soared through her body, she went through a thousand different scenarios in her head trying to come up with an adequate response in each case. Though the young witch knew it was useless, it kept her somewhat focused.

There was a knock on the door and she realized there was no more escape.

"Enter," Hermione called out, swallowing hard when her friend stepped inside.

"You wanted to see me, miss Morris?" asked Harry. There was a wide smile on his face, joviality on his voice. Harry was a man who couldn't wait to celebrate. Hopefully, that would put him in a good mood... just in case.

No turning back now.

"Yes," Hermione spoke softly. "It's so good to see you again, Harry. It's been so long."

Harry frowned and cocked his head sideways. He took a moment to adjust his glasses. "Excuse me, have we met before today?"

Hermione was about to open her mouth to reply when Harry let out a startled gasp. Recognition was clear on his face. "Hermione?" he whispered, as if questioning his own sanity. "Is that you?"

After swallowing hard, Hermione took her wand and ended the effects of the polyjuice. Her features changed, her hair changed color and there she stood. Samantha Morris revealed as being Hermione Granger. However, she wasn't quite ready for Harry's reaction.

"HERMIONE!" he let out a joyous shout, rushed towards her, wrapped his arms around her and clutched her tightly to him. For a moment, she wondered if her ribs were about to buckle under pressure. Instead, she closed her eyes and returned the hug. "I looked all over for you! I turned over every rock in Australia trying to find you and your family. Hell, it's been almost a year since I last saw you. Did you find them?!"

"Yes," Hermione smiled warmly. "Yes, I did. Oh, Harry, I have so much to tell you."

"Someone else should be here for that," Harry smiled and Hermione knew exactly whom she meant. Oh dear, this could be worrying; Ron was a lot more judgmental than Harry was and... oh, god, the nerves were acting up again. But Harry did as he said. One floo call later and Ron had rushed to Iceland to come see her. Harry being the security officer got Ron speed-tracked into the conference center and right into Hermione's arms for a second rib-crushing hug. For now, the boys were happy to see her, but that was the spur of the moment. They were too happy and caught up in the moment to put two and two together.

"Hermione," Ron smiled warmly. "Well, this is a good reason for a double celebration. I wonder if Iceland has good pubs. Hey, shouldn't be hard to get a drink on the rocks, at least."

"Oh, that's so cliche, Ron," Harry admonished.

"Come on, the place is called _Ice_ land," replied Ron. "Surely they have good cold drinks."

"Just how did you end up putting all of this together, Hermione? I got a feeling you have a lot to tell us," Harry asked. There was no suspicion in his voice, only curiosity. Hermione closed her eyes.

"It's a long story," said Hermione. "And I'm not sure how you're going to take it. It all started when..."

And so Hermione told the boys everything which had happened to her since she had last seen them. Being kidnapped in Switzerland and taken to Russia. Becoming a 'guest' at the place. Her interactions with Bellatrix, her renewed friendship with Luna, reuniting with her family and meeting her little sister, her relationship with Bellatrix developing from antagonistic to mutual respect to falling in love and all the doubts and problems which came with that, Hermione picking up her diplomatic career again and executing her plan to secure peace. In fact, the only thing she had left out was the existence of Ouroboros; she was dropping enough bombshells on the boys already.

While she was telling the tale, the boys sat and listened with mouths agape. They did not respond, but, to be honest, Hermione was spewing forth the tale with such speed and intensity that neither Harry or Ron ever had a chance _to_ respond.

When she finally came to the end of her story, her throat was parched and the nerves returned. The boys simply sat there, blinking as if trying to process the entire infodump.

"I need you to believe that I was never a traitor," said Hermione, concluding her tale. "So many things happened to me and... I just hope I haven't lost your friendship."

Silence.

"Well?" Hermione asked nervously.

Nothing.

"Please," Hermione felt tears stinging. "Just... say something. If you want to be angry with me, that's alright. But..."

It was Ron who slowly stood up from his chair and reached out to grab a nervous Hermione by the shoulders. "Hermione," he started while a huge grin crossed his features. "You _ended_ the WAR! We'd be daft sorry gits if we'd be angry about that!"

"Ron..." Hermione sniffed, relief washing over her.

"Oi, no tears, Hermione," said Ron, wiping away a lone tear. "This is a happy occasion! We're at peace and the three of us are together again."

Harry, however, was a bit more of a cipher. The young man stood up and sauntered over to the window without saying a word. He seemed to be in deep contemplation while leaning on the windowsill. Had she lost a friend?

"Harry?"

"I, uh," Harry started. "I need some time to wrap my head around the concept that you're romantically involved with Bellatrix Black."

Hermione nodded. "I understand, Harry. Trust me, when it first happened to me I was more than a little frightened and confused."

Harry expression hardened considerably. "Bellatrix killed Sirius, Dobby, Tonks... She served Voldemort willingly. You say she's changed and maybe she has. Still, I'll never trust her," he spoke harshly before his lips curled up into a smile. "But I will always trust _you._ And if you see something good in her, then I trust your judgment. Just don't ask me to be her friend because that will never happen. Still, it's hard to deny that you've been a positive influence on her."

"Harry," Hermione sniffed. "Thank you."

"Honestly, I think you're mental," Harry chuckled.

"I'm pretty sure you're mental," Ron added. "But it's the good kind of mental!"

"Ron!" Hermione protested.

Ron put his finger to his lips as if experiencing an epiphany. "At least now I know for certain why we've broken up! Makes a lot more sense when you think about," he grinned at Harry. "Hey, Harry, the three of us now have a whole new range of topics to talk about. We can finally talk about pretty girls with big jugs without Hermione getting upset about it!"

Hermione blinked once. Twice. "Ronald!" Hermione protested. "That is incredibly sexist!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't count when you like to look at big jugs too!" Ron replied, showing off his 'flawless' skills at logical thinking.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione face-palmed. "The fact that I am attracted to women doesn't mean talking about big jugs automatically stops being sexist. God, you're impossible."

"Oh, thought!" Ron grinned wickedly. "So what are Bellatrix's jugs like?"

Harry rolled his eyes in response. "I am _not_ having this conversation. In fact, I'm not even here and I don't know who you are. Who are you, ginger-haired sir?"

At first, Hermione was shocked into pure incredulity by this unexpected turn of events. Then, she smiled. And laughed. Really laughed. The absurdity of it all, combined with the intense relief of her friends not being angry with her, caused her to fall into gales and gales of laughter. It wasn't long until the boys joined in. More stories were shared; Harry about his search for Hermione in Australia, Ron about leaving the auror corps and now hosting shows for kids with his brother.

"Say," Ron replied. "We should move this party over to a pub, wouldn't you say? We can talk better over a cold pint!"

That sounded rather irresistible right now. The three of them left the room while still laughing; by now most of the Ministers had cleared out, considering they would probably do an all-nighter in their offices. In truth, she should probably be at Buyan palace to help coordinate the de-militarization efforts, but she felt too much like celebrating; she'd pick up that duty tomorrow.

However, when they stepped through the door, they found Bellatrix standing at the buffet table to fill a glass of wine. Hermione noted that she looked particularly radiant in her triumph. She was impressed and more than a little aroused to see her so confident; her love was such a truly beautiful woman. Infuriating, yes, but that was part of the fun.

Next to her, Harry stiffened while Ron gave the woman a nod.

"Ah, there you are," said Bellatrix, flashing her a sultry grin.

"We're going down the pub," Ron announced cheerfully. "We have a lot to celebrate."

Bellatrix shot them a wicked grin. "Judging from the cheers, I'd say Hermione was nervous for nothing. I hope you won't tire my little dove too much, hm? I was planning on a lengthy and passionate celebration of our own. She'd going to need her stamina to keep up with what I've planned. Sex magic can be so draining, you see? I have this lovely new spell which is going to make her toes curl."

Hermione felt her cheeks flash red while her mouth went dry. Of course Bellatrix had sex on her mind and, truth be told, Hermione was very much in the mood to make love. But to have it so blatantly stated in front of her friends made her even more embarrassed about it. In fact, part of her bristled; she very much realized that the only reason Bellatrix had so specifically mentioned sex magic _was_ to embarrass her in front of her friends.

"Ew," Harry croaked uncomfortably.

"Hot," Ron grinned like a happy fool. In fact, it was so easy to see that his mind was going places Hermione didn't want him to go that she smacked against the back of his head and shot him a damning glare.

* * *

**8th of April 2004 – Reyjavik, Iceland – The Celtic Cross, Muggle pub**

Hermione enjoyed a feeling of peace, quiet and accomplishment even as the boys were rather boisterous. After all her planning, preparations and, let's be honest, one hell of a gamble, she felt she had earned some time to enjoy her victory. She and the boys had some more catching up to do, so they picked a nice Muggle pub to enjoy the evening. The wizarding world would be turmoil for the next few days and all the wizarding press were now interviewing Ministers of Magic, but still Hermione didn't want to risk being discovered. Wearing a hoodie and being out in the Muggle world seemed safe enough for now, with the appropriate spells cast on her clothes.

They chose a table away from the windows to remain out of sight and Harry quickly returned from the bar with three cold pints of Guinness. Hermione didn't drink very often, but she was in good company and the taste of the cold stout was simply heavenly.

"I looked all over Australia for you," Harry chuckled. "Made a friend, even. Rollo, an auror Brisbane. We write ever so often."

"How close did you get?" Hermione asked.

"As close as your parents' house," said Harry. "Luna beat me to it, though. She effectively erased their existence, but missed a single homeless person."

"Let's not talk about _her_ ," Ron scofffed.

"How's Luna doing?" Harry asked.

"As well as can be," Hermione replied, omitting mention what horror she had helped uncover. Oh, she'd tell her friends eventually just... not yet. "I've missed her. And it was good to have someone I knew to talk to them I was basically trapped in a gilded cage."

"Oh, poor Hermione," Ron faux-sniffed. "Forced to live in a palace in luxury with good food and wine and company and a gigantic library. Such hellish torture."

That caused the young witch to narrow her eyes. She was about to give an angry retort when she noticed the twinkle in Ron's eye and calmed down. "Oh, honestly, you never change, Ron."

Harry cocked his head sideways. "Hermione. You and Bellatrix. How did that come to be?"

"It just... happened," Hermione replied. "It's hard to put a finger on what, but it did. And... I'm happy it did."

"Well, I'm not the one who's going to explain it to Neville," Ron replied. "In fact, I don't even want to be in the room when that happens."

"I know," Hermione side while taking another drought from her stout. "I have a lot of explaining to do to a lot of people I care about. I don't expect any of them to understand. I'm just glad the two of you do."

That made Harry laugh. "I don't exactly understand, nor do I pretend to, but you know your feelings better than I do."

Ron took a sip from his own pint. "You're mental. But so is Bellatrix. And she's gorgeous."

"Ron!" Harry frowned.

"What? She is," replied Ron. "Come on, have you seen her?! Now that her hair isn't frizzy anymore, her teeth are fixed and she's not running around tossing the cruciatus curse about, she's looking incredible."

"It's so obvious you're single, Ron," Harry laughed.

Great. This was great. Reunited with her closest friends who accepted her relationship with a woman whom had once been the servant of their greatest enemy and until today had waged war upon them. This had done better than she could ever have hoped.

"Now," said Harry. "I want to know more about mini-Hermione."

That made Hermione laugh. "Her's name's Ophelia and she is delightful. If my parents are to be believed, she's a lot more active than I was at that age. It's just... a joy to get to know her and I love her so much, Harry."

"Oh, give it a year and the love-hate relationship will flourish on its own," said Ron. "Trust me, I know how all this sibling malarkey works better than anyone."

The best thing to do was to show them a picture of them taken in the palace gardens. This moving picture had Hermione sitting on a bench with a giggling Ophelia on her lap, the two of them posing for the camera while their parents bent over the back of the bench. Luna had taken that photo for her on the first day she had been reunited with her family.

Her family. Before going back to the palace, she should let her mother and father know how the conference had gone. They'd been nothing but supportive of her efforts and were sure to be proud of her.

"Just... do me a favor, alright?" Hermione asked. "Don't tell anyone about... me or me being Samantha Morris. Not everybody is going to understand and I want to tell our friends in due time under the right circumstances."

"No kidding," said Harry. "I think Snape's going to a blow a fuse when he finds out."

"Let's tell him last," Hermione chuckled.

"He _did_ drive you into the arms of Bellatrix," Ron laughed. "And, really, when is he ever happy?"

"You didn't see him at the conference, Ron," said Harry. "Snape doesn't really care for the peace Hermione has crafted."

"What?" Ron blinked. "He's daft. The fighting stops, we can all go home. What's not to love?"

"Snape's convinced that we and the Wallies can't coexist peacefully and says that nobody will ever be safe until Bellatrix is taken care of," Harry said.

"For what it's worth," said Hermione. "Bellatrix believes the same. But she, at least, is willing to try. It _is_ going to be difficult. The Alliance and the Union will be in a state of cold war and will constantly challenge each other. If we're not careful, war might break out once more."

"I'm not worried," said Harry. "As long as Hermione Granger is around to keep the peace. You did it, Hermione. You actually did it."

Hermione smiled briefly. "I'm just happy that you two aren't angry with me."

"Nah," Harry shook his head. "I think you're daft, but I know you've a good heart and had good reason for what you did."

"She loves me, Harry," Hermione replied with a soft voice. "When I'm with her, I can keep her darkest urges in check."

Ron rubbed his chin. "I just wonder who's going to keep Snape's urges in check. Say, Harry..."

For his part, the Boy Who Lived looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Oh, hell no! I am _not_ sleeping with Snape!"

The sheer look of horror on both Ron and Harry's faces face made Hermione giggle. "Right," muttered an embarrassed Harry as he raised his glass, obviously eager for a change of subject. "To our wonderful friend and peacekeeper."

"Here, here," Ron raised his glass.

The young witch felt her cheeks glow red. "Thanks for the vote confidence, lads."

"I wonder when they'll bring out our food. I'm starting to get peckish."

Ron and eating. Some things never changed, and Hermione was glad for it. Hope. Hope was so important. The war was over, yet she and Luna still knew that the stakes were beyond measure. All she had achieved today was to buy her and Luna precious time. But for today, Hermione could simply enjoy the company of her two best friends.

* * *

**8th of April 2004 – Reykjavik, Iceland – Hilton Reykjavik Nordica**

Bellatrix was most annoyed.

Because the wizarding world in Iceland was so small and there were no wizarding inns that they were able to secure in an any way acceptable level, the Icelandic Ministry had put her up in a Muggle hotel.

A _Muggle_ hotel. _Her!_

This was no way to treat a respected head of state by any means. If she wasn't waiting for Hermione to come back, she would have returned to Buyan Palace in a most huffy state by now.

She supposed the suite was rather nice and all, with a good view of the mountains and a soft bed, but Bellatrix simply couldn't get over the insult of it all. Still, she supposed she shouldn't complain all too much; today she had been given one of the greatest victories of her life by the love of her life.

Once again, Bellatrix paced the room up and down while she patiently waited for Hermione to come back. It was close to midnight when she finally did; she had instructed one of the house-elves in her entourage to keep an eye out for her return and the elf had performed diligently. Feeling cheeky, Bellatrix stood behind the door and killed the lights in the room. When the doors opened, Hermione stepped through.

"Bella?" she called into the darkened room. Like a cat, Bellatrix pounced upon her, wrapping her arms around her waist and quickly nuzzling the nape of her neck. What Bellatrix most enjoyed was Hermione's reaction; there was no gasp, no flinch, no resistance. Her Hermione simply melded into the embrace, trusting her completely.

"You've had your fun with your friends, now it's my turn," Bellatrix whispered into her ear. Oh, the dark witch wasn't insipid; she quite realized how much those two lads meant to Hermione. But there was a place and time for 'lads'. And right now certainly wasn't the place. Hermione was swiftly pushed onto the soft bed and offered no resistance. Immediately, Bellatrix was upon her, wand at the ready. She whispered words of power, the tip of her wand illuminated scarlet red. The moment her wand touched Hermione's belly, the young witch let out an ecstatic gasp. Her love's entire body went rigid, the muscles in her legs seizing up.

"Told you it would make your toes curl," chuckled Bellatrix. "I've been saving this particular spell for a special occasion. Maybe if you're really nice, I'll even teach it to you."

Slowly and cruelly, Bellatrix roved her wand over Hermione's body. The young witch arched her back and let out a gasp followed by a series of blissful moans when she slide the wand over the girl's sides, her belly, her legs... Oh how she loved making her Hermione squirm.

As she pleasured her Hermione, it dawned to Bellatrix that they had a future to consider now. A future. It was odd, really. For the entire time they had been together, they'd either been focused on the past of the present. Ever since her imprisonment in Azkaban, she'd learned not to think about her own future; now, she couldn't think of anything else.

On Bellatrix's mind was a grand dynasty. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black reborn, and ruling over a vast swath of the wizarding world. An Empire like the world, Muggle or wizarding, had never seen before or even dared dream about. Terrifying and unstoppable, with the war now over they could focus on rebuilding and building a society. She would reshape the wizarding world in the image she desired.

Tonight, she would conquer Hermione once more; the girl's breath quickened, her cheeks blushed as the magic did its work. Hands clutched she sheets as she started to trash about.

"Ssssshhh," Bellatrix said, pinning her down while continuing to rove her wand about. The poor girl simply lost it when the tip of the wand found one of Hermione's nipples, eliciting a cry of acute pleasure. Her own arousal now apparent, the dark witch decided to up the ante by flicking her tongue around the other nipple.

"My, my," she chuckled. "You..." _lick_. "Filthy..." _caress. "_ Little..." _kiss._ "Mudblood..." _fondle._

A sudden movement and Bellatrix found herself being pushed to her side and was quickly pinned by a very randy looking Hermione. "What's this?" husked a bemused Bellatrix.

"Quiet!" Hermione demanded, latched on to the nape of her neck. Bellatrix let out a sultry chuckle when her corset was quickly sent flying through the hotel room. Hermione attacked her as if she was a ravenous beast. Bellatrix growled in protest only to be swiftly silenced by Hermione's hungriest of kisses.

Indeed, sometimes it was just fun to lie back and enjoy the moment.

And enjoy themselves, the both of them certainly did. The two of them lay spent underneath the duvet, in each other's arms. "The war is over," Bellatrix whispered into the darkness. "You've changed the course of history, little Dove."

Hermione sighed blissfully. "It hasn't quite sunk in yet, I suppose," she said. "I can't wait to tell Ophelia and my parents. And everyone else. God, we did it."

" _You_ did it," Bellatrix smiled just before gritting her teeth. She'd been better at suppressing her headaches and she'd had quite a few attacks during the summit; thankfully, they had waned a bit by now. Making love to Hermione had been a much needed distraction.

It was then that something odd happened. Hermione let out a gasp and stiffened in her embrace slightly. Her jaw trembled slightly as brown eyes were fixed to a ceiling corner of the room. Her breathing increased and color drained from her face.

"I'm over here, little dove," Bellatrix reached out to Hermione's chin and pulled her gaze back to hers. "What's wrong?"

"It's... it's nothing," said Hermione. Though obviously still disturbed, she feigned a smile. Though her lover was with her, Bellatrix couldn't shake the feeling something was off. That frightened stare returned as she looked right at her.

It was then that Bellatrix realized that Hermione wasn't staring _at_ her _._

She was staring at empty space just _behind_ her.


	24. Big Time

**15th of April 2004 – Norwich, England – Alliance Command center**

Celebrations were still going on strongly in all corners of the Phoenix Alliance. A victory, they say. A new era of peace, they say. Snape didn't see any reason to celebrate anything.

As far as he saw it, the fools in charge of the Alliance nations had thrown away the security of the wizarding world by letting Bellatrix trample all over them with a half-baked offer of peace. The threat still existed and the supposed peaceful co-existence which lay at the core of the Treaty of Reykjavik was nothing more than a farce. If Bellatrix went through with her insanity, she was certain to drag the entire wizarding world to its doom right along with her.

And so, he sat alone at the office. Most of his staff were, ironically, out celebrating, leaving only the most essential and most strident workaholics behind. Suffice it to say, he was in no mood to celebrate. He brought the glass of fire-whiskey to his lips and took a deep drought, feeling the liquid burning all the way down to his stomach.

It had only been a week. One bloody week and his operating budget had been slashed to pieces. The war had eaten up massive amount of liquid assets and member states, eager to reallocate budget to their ailing economies, were reluctant to allow anything more than the border guards and reservists stipulated by the treaty. The armies he once commanded were being disbanded left and right and what would be left of his command was to become a token internal security force to enforce the stipulations of the Treaty of Reykjavik should it become necessary. The fools whom once had come begging for him to rescue them from Bellatrix's relentless advance, were now chiding him and telling him the usual empty platitudes such as 'this is a different time now, Severus' or 'Snape, you're stuck in the past. This is a new reality'.

Imbeciles. How quickly they'd forgotten.

He was listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network right now, and a correspondent from the Alliance was telling the listeners what was happening in a secluded wizarding palace in Russia. Indeed, while those imbeciles in power were clapping themselves on the backs for having secured peace, Bellatrix was about to declare herself empress.

As if they needed any more evidence than that! The fools couldn't or wouldn't see what was happening in front of their very noses.

And so, he listened and seethed. Yes, he'd been very much aware that victory through conventional means could not be done almost from the very start of the war. The only thing that could end this war was through the death of Bellatrix. With her gone, the little empire she had built would collapse like a house of cards. He was so certain of this. But that goal was now farther from his reach than ever before.

He grunted and lay his hand against the side of his head. His headaches were getting much worse. Normally, he'd go to see a healer, but he didn't have the time. Snape had no intention to simply abandon the war. No, he still had many people who were loyal to him, people who saw Bellatrix as the threat she posed. The war would become a more covert one. Secrecy, infiltration and assassinations. While the Alliance army was disbanding, he was using his remaining contacts to funnel loyal troops and resources out of sight.

They told him, the war was over.

Nothing was over.

So he sat and listened. Bellatrix could have her moment, but he would end her regardless of this dire setback.

He owed it to Lily.

* * *

**15th of April 2004 – Sudoga, Russia – Muromtzevo castle**

Hermione had had a rather hectic week behind her. While most of the Walpurgis Union was in a state of complete celebration, she herself had spent most of the time in her 'Samantha Morris' persona to address the press or smooth over issues cropping up during the de-militarization process. And then, there was Bellatrix.

Bellatrix wanted to make a sweeping victory statement to celebrate the Treaty as well as the peace and recognition it brought. So here Hermione was; sat in a large visiting room adjacent on a balcony on the third floor of a grand Russian palace. In fact, she often took a peek from behind the curtain as Bellatrix was addressing an enormous gathering of her people; her love looked magnificent in a black grown with gilded embroideries and white fur lining. What finished the image was a white-golden crown inlaid with diamonds which had been placed on a pillow on a table next to her.

The crowd cheered joyously for their dark lady when she passionately addressed the crowd and spoke of the glorious freedom which awaited them. Hermione had to admit it was rousing. Bellatrix's people yelled out in joy as the dark witch took the crown, raised it high and slowly lowered it on top of her head, crowning herself Empress Bellatrix I, sovereign ruler of the Walpurgis Union. Was it over the top? Yes. Was it vainglorious? Absolutely. But this was, after all, Bellatrix's moment.

Hermione went back inside to drink a bit of the already uncorked champagne. Again, Hermione was impressed by the way Bellatrix was working the crowd. Moreover, she hoped she'd have some time to explore this lovely castle and its grounds when the celebrations had ended. Originally, Bellatrix had planned to hold a celebration on Buyan island and issuing an open invitation to any of her people to join. It was, in fact, Luna who balked at that notion, declaring quite correctly that giving so many people access to the center of government posed an unacceptable security-risk, especially considering the presence of foreign press.

Luckily, there was another perfect location to be found in this very castle. Muromtzevo Castle was a lovely place in a remote area owned by rich Russian wizards who were staunch supporters of the Union and were honored to host this historic event. Both magic and its remoteness shielded it from prying Muggle eyes. The large surrounding grounds could easily hold many visitors. And this was a good thing because about four times the expected number of celebrants had shown up.

"The Walpurgis Union is finally free to make its own destiny without the belligerents or the reactionaries who bear us nothing but ill will!" sounded the magically enhanced voice of Bellatrix, complete with the appropriate passionate hand gestures. There was power in her voice and in her presence. In that moment, she was what Voldemort never had been; a natural leader people could put their faith in. "We did this together. The soldiers who fought tirelessly, the enchanters who labored to create potions and wands, the builders who created our forts, our cities and our powerful warships, the tireless healers who patched up our wounded, to our non-human friends whom have taken up our cause. But there is one individual whose efforts secured a lasting peace and made our victory possible. A woman of courage and intellect..."

Hermione gulped. ' _Oh god, she wouldn't.'_

"... some of you might know her as 'Samantha Morris', my senior diplomat, but that is merely a mask she wears," Bellatrix started.

' _She would!'_ Hermione took a few deep breaths and tried to find the nearest exit before Bellatrix could do what she feared she would do.

"She is the one who deserves your recognition, praise and admiration. She... is the woman whom I've given my heart. Let the masks be lifted and let her name be known..." Bellatrix started. By this time, Hermione had almost reached the door when she found something snap around her waist. God, it was Bellatrix's wand-whip spell. Hermione whimpered in horrified terror when she found herself being hoisted away from salvation and dragged outside onto the balcony. And there, she stood like a deer in the headlights, looking down upon what seemed to be an endless crowd of people.

"HERMIONE GRANGER!" Bellatrix shouted joyously, and after a moment of shock, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

The world seemed to go mute as Hermione felt a shudder go through her body. Oh, there should be plenty of people down there who know who she was. She was a war-hero, after all, and her role in the defeat of Voldemort and her actions after the escalation of the second Wizarding War were reasonably well-known. What's worse was that there was foreign press about and so many people were taking photographs. Bellatrix had not only outed her as having worked for the Walpurgis Union to secure peace but also told the entire world that they were in love and romantically involved. The papers were going to have a field-day with this.

Too much. It was too much.

Tear ran over her cheeks when she turned and ran, stumbling into the sitting room on her way to the door. She felt like an emotional wreck as she sobbed uncontrollably, and the only thing which kept her from running away was the fact that her foot caught behind the side of a Persian rug which tripped her up before she got the chance to escape.

Out of there. She had to get out of there, away from this place.

Before she should scramble to her feet, Bellatrix was upon her. The dark witch knelt next to her and slowly helped her to her feet. "Little dove?" Bellatrix asked, surprise apparent on her voice. "What's wrong? Why did you run?"

Sadness turned to rage as she spun around to look the dark witch in the eye, almost snarling like a wild animal as she did so. "What's wrong, she asks," Hermione hissed. "Damn you, Bella, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!"

For her part, the dark witch seemed flabbergasted. "I... merely wanted to make sure that you've earned your place in the history-books. Everybody should know that _you_ were the one responsible for this peace and not that Samantha Morris girl you've been pretending to be. You have earned this, little dove."

"You outed me! Everybody will think me a traitor now! They might not have if I could explain myself under controlled circumstances!" Hermione shouted back. "I didn't want this to happen today!"

The dark witch narrowed her eyes. "You overestimate them. No matter what you say, no matter what you have done, no matter how much you have sacrificed for them, there will still be those in the Alliance who will think you a traitor regardless!"

"You don't know that!" Hermione returned. "But now you've made sure that I can never return to the UK!"

"That's because you're _not_ going to return to the UK! You're staying in St. Petersburg with me!" Bellatrix shouted. There was anger in her voice, but also a touch of desperation. It was a plea as much as it was a statement. Hermione felt some of her anger slide away from her, but she wouldn't let her dark lady lover off the hook just yet.

"It's still my homeland. I still have friends there. It's your home too," Hermione spoke softly.

"Bollocks!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes as she paced the room. "I left the UK behind. So did you. There's nothing for us there. Your family lives in the Union. And your two lad-friends can visit whenever they please. Why would you want to go back to that dreary rain-factory? All they have to offer is drizzle, dodgy chippies and baked beans. Little dove, we've outgrown it."

"I suppose," Hermione sighed. "But I don't like it one bit that you made that decision _for_ me."

"You said that you worked to secure peace not just for us but for everybody. If they can't understand that, they are not worthy of your friendship."

Hermione closed her eyes. Bellatrix was right, of course, but still... how would she explain to Neville that she was now romantically involved with the woman whom had helped to torture his parents into insanity. Honestly, though, that conversation wouldn't have been any less difficult without being outed, she wagered.

The young witch felt two arms surround her waist while Bellatrix parked her chin on her shoulder. "Do you forgive me?" Bellatrix asked, and Hermione could literally hear the pout which was undoubtedly on the dark witch's face.

"I do," Hermione sighed. "Though I really wish you'd be a little less impulsive."

"Let's go back out there," Bellatrix said while pulling her back towards the balcony. "The good people will be wondering if something happened."

And so Hermione once again found herself standing on the balcony facing many cheering happy people. This time around, after overcoming her terror and the shock of being outed, she found she didn't really object that much anymore. Not even when Bellatrix pulled her close and pressed soft lips against her temple. These were the people she had fought so hard for, and there were many more on both sides. People who could go home to their loved ones.

Yeah. That made her feel really good about herself. She slowly raised an arm to wave at them.

"That's it," Bellatrix whispered. "Take some time to enjoy the moment. You've earned it."

Bella was right, of course. There was still the matter of the cosmic horror looming over all of them, but Hermione decided it was best to focus on one miracle at the time.

* * *

**15th of April 2004 – Norwich, Egland – Alliance Command center**

Severus Snape had always looked down on those people prone to emotional outbursts, considering it a lack of character. But when he heard Bellatrix announce to the world that Samantha Morris, the architect of this so-called 'peace', was in fact none other than Hermione Granger, he swore loudly and frequently.

Yes, it started to make sense now. Miss Granger's disappearance, no doubt due to a kidnapping on Bellatrix's part. Oh, he sincerely doubted that she had defected willingly; miss Granger might be a naive idealist, but she was not someone to switch sides lightly. Miss Granger would know how to navigate the diplomatic waters of the Phoenix Alliance and did so expertly. The question of why was answered when he thought back to Bellatrix's exact words.

Her heart.

Bellatrix mentioned that she had given miss Granger her heart.

"My, my, Bella," Snape spoke out loud to his empty room. "You really _have_ changed."

It wasn't all that strange, really. Aside from the obvious difference in blood status, both Bellatrix and miss Granger had more in common than they had differences. Both were intelligent, stubborn and idealistic in their own way. He had never known Bellatrix to have been involved with a female, but he certainly wouldn't put it past her.

Tomorrow it would probably be all over the papers; Bellatrix declaring herself Empress alongside the headline of being involved with war-hero and star diplomat Hermione Granger. The sad truth was that it was likely that most people would see her as a hero for brokering peace rather than the traitor to the wizarding world that she had become. Had Bella seduced her? Likely. But that did not absolve her.

So, Samantha Morris was Hermione Granger. This would put all the intelligence gathered on Samantha Morris in a different light. He reached out to the files already on his desk; plenty of intelligence work had already been done. And he'd have to find out just how much Potter had known. Of course, the boy would have kept this secret from him, perhaps even helped her.

"Well played, miss Granger," Snape snorted to himself. "Well played."

* * *

**15th of April 2004 – Sudoga, Russia – Muromtzevo castle ballroom**

Hermione found herself standing at the refreshments table, tasting some of the hors d'ouvres prepared for the guests. As a follow up to Bellatrix's crowning, the owners of Muromtzevo castle had arranged for a lavish reception. Most higher-ups in Walpurgis Union government were here, as were plenty of Walpurgis Ministers, some powerful supporters and famous entertainers. She'd lost Bella somewhere in the crowd and even though she was quite enjoying wearing a lavish dress and networking with important people, the fact that she had been revealed to be Hermione Granger had plenty of people approaching her with questions. Too many and too much, in fact.

Even the mask she wore didn't help to hide her identity, as the white porcelain only hid her face above the nose and she was still plenty recognizable.

Thankfully, this was a rather quiet arrangement; the kind of party meant for dignitaries to press the flesh. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Bellatrix chatting with US wizarding president Eagle Kincaid. A lot of the press had decided to focus their attention on the both of them for the time being.

Hermione closed her eyes when she heard someone shuffling towards her. For a moment, she hoped this person was simply there to enjoy some refreshments, but those hopes were dashed when the person stopped behind her and scraped her throat to announce herself.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Look," she said while turning around. "I would like some time to myself and..."

"May I have this dance?" spoke the masked woman who turned out to be Luna Lovegood. "We have things to discuss."

Soon afterward, Luna and Hermione were on the dance-floor where sweeping magical music almost compelled the dancers to keep to the rhythm. The couple waltzed along with plenty of other couples on the dance-floor, keeping reasonable distance. Hermione found that the music was fine, but had always thought wizarding music sounded too perfect. This was always hard to explain to someone whom had grown up in the wizarding world, but the lack of imperfections, absence of the little mistakes or a single false tone made the music lose much of its human quality, its soul.

"Isn't this a bit public for... what we want to talk about?" Hermione asked, keeping her voice low.

"Nothing to worry about, Hermione," Luna replied. "Nobody is paying attention to us. And it would look far more suspicious for us to slip away from the party."

Hermione nodded; that sounded logical. "I haven't seen you for a week. What's been happening?"

"We've been busy. Our covert agents are slowly withdrawing from Alliance territory as per the stipulations of the treaty, but we're doing it in such a way that their identities and our ties to them are not revealed whenever possible. Thankfully, the treaty gave us a bit of a vague time-frame to work with. A lot of agents have been freed up to search for the Dead Grimoire covertly."

"Any clues?" Hermione asked.

"Only that those opposing the cult took the book with it 'westward' when they fractured," said Luna. "We have a few promising leads, but there's a lot of ground to cover and unfortunately all of them are in Alliance territory. Ironically, it might have been easier to follow those up when we were still at war."

Westward. Hermione smiled to herself. She heard the voice of her father speaking that word. 'Westward ho!' he'd say just before he would start the car and take the five year old Hermione and her mum to a fun-filled camping trip to the west coast of the UK. She'd always looked forward to family holidays; in fact, she rather liked the idea of going on a family holiday in the wilds of Finland with her parents and Ophelia. If it's be just as fun as their old family holidays in Somerset, they...

Somerset.

_Somerset!_

A flurry of memories assaulted her mind at that very moment, taking her back to that desperate time of the Horcrux hunt when she, Harry and Ron hid in the countryside. Even though the music kept playing, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Luna by the forearms. "Oh my god," she gasped. "I... I think I know where it is."

Luna's eyes grew wide behind her mask briefly before motioning for Hermione to keep following her movements. "Keep dancing," Luna whispered. "Start at the beginning."

She told Luna about what had happened in Somerset in 1997, how the horcrux hunt led the trio to find Ozymandius Oliphant, the famed collector of arcane and forbidden tomes.

"He was mad as a hatter," said Hermione, shuddering at the memory. "He was raving like a maniac and he'd poked his own eyes out. He was ranting about visions and prophecies. It was in that library that I saw an old leatherbound book, placed on a pedestal. It was more precious to him than many other famed so-called lost tomes."

"Describe it," Luna demanded.

"It... looked to be hundreds of years old and it was about as thick as my fist and was about twice the size of the history of magic textbook," started Hermione. "It was bound in black leather with the symbol of the snake eating its own tale embossed in the leather itself."

"That sounds right." There was hint of awe in Luna's voice when she said it.

"There's more," said Hermione. "When I saw it I was... somehow drawn to it. Like I wasn't in control of my own body."

"You touched it?" Luna replied. "You actually touched it."

"It felt something... happen to me," said Hermione. "It's hard to explain, but I felt as if the book desperately wanted me to touch it, to pick it up and take it away from that place."

Luna rubbed her chin. "It's been looking for you. When you touched it, part of its magic became part of you. This also explains why the temple doors opened for you and possibly why you seem to be immune to Bellatrix's charm and Snape's intimidation."

"How does that explain anything?"

"The book is a repository of the total of gathered knowledge, prophecies, theories and predictions about the source of magic and our potential doom," said Luna. "To the people in the know, it was a journal of a sorts. Every researcher, every generation, would add things to it. But some people started to see it as a religious text of a sort and started to combat change to it. Eventually the cult we visited was formed, with some twisted wizards choosing to worship the creature instead of finding a way to escape our fate. Fanatics murdered the other researchers, and the few survivors managed to spirit away the book westward. Obviously, Ozymandius Oliphant found it."

"And paid for it with his sanity," Hermione spoke. "He knew me by name before it was spoken. He said I would be the doom of the world."

"The book has a will of its own," said Luna. "It did not want to be in his collection, so it drove him mad. Getting to the book might be a problem, though. Even with the end of the war, the UK is one of the most secure wizarding nations in the world and the few agents I had placed there have already been withdrawn as per the Treaty. This is going to be a challenge, but I still have a few active contacts among the locals."

Hermione and Luna kept dancing as a new song started playing. "I have idea," said Hermione. "We'll use Snape's favorite tactic against him. In two weeks time, there will be a diplomatic envoy to the UK to discuss the details of a prisoner exchange. I was set to lead it as Samantha Morris, but considering what happened today I will have one of my staff do so instead. But nobody will notice two junior envoys if we're careful enough.

"Even so, there'd be plenty scrutiny. The polyjuice would have to be full-proof and undetectable," said Luna. "I'll have my best potion masters draw up a batch. We'll do a little trick I like to call 'musical chairs polyjuice'. We'll slip into the country under polyjuice, instruct our fellow-travelers to polyjuice themselves regularly as our fake selves so that we're regularly seen at the hotel and then the two of us will assume a third identity as two locals during our search for the book."

"You've clearly done this before," Hermione laughed.

"The conference should give us a window of at least a week to look for the book. If we're lucky, we will find all the answers and deal with this creature quietly before anyone's wiser," said Luna.

"What if the answers we seek aren't in the book? What else can we do to stop it?" Hermione asked, to which Luna shook her head.

"Then all we can do is return home and enjoy our final moments in this life."

"That severe?"

"You've seen what we're dealing with. And I have no other leads."

Hermione needed a few moments to let that fully sink in. She had seen the possible horrible future... if one could even speak of a future when time itself lost all meaning... which awaited them by gazing into the tear in reality. Primordial magic, it was. She thought of her parents, of Ophelia, of Ron and Harry and of Bella; the people she cared about most. For their sake, the book _had_ to hold the answers.

As if Luna sensed her distress, she slowed the dance down and looked deep in her eyes. "Hermione," Luna started. "There has to be a reason why your name comes up so many times in prophecies surrounding Ouroboros."

"Ozymandius seemed to think I would cause the world's destruction," Hermione bit her lip. "Who is to say he and the others before him weren't right? Perhaps I should stay as far away from the Dead Grimoire as possible."

Luna shook her head dismissively. "If there's one thing I've learned about prophecies, it's that they're often so vague that they can't be interpreted until after the fact. The only thing which is certain is that you will have a role to play in the dark times to come, whether you like it or not. Even if you try to escape, you will be drawn back."

Hermione bowed her head low. "Then there is no such thing as free will?"

"Of course there is," smiled Luna. "Just not always."

Hermione was about to retort when two arms wrapped around her waist and the dark curly hair of Bellatrix fell over her shoulder when the dark witch pressed her cheek against hers. "Ah, there you are, little dove!" Bellatrix spoke in a pleasant and light-hearted tone. "I would almost think you are cheating on me with Luna here from the intimate way the two of you were dancing."

The young witch closed her eyes and simply enjoyed Bellatrix's closeness, especially when she felt soft lips brushing against her skin. It was amazing how much she had come to love Bellatrix; the dark witch wasn't the most conventional of partners, but she had never thought that the witch whom had put her through so much pain and humiliation earlier in her life could make her feel so _loved_ today.

"No, seriously, don't cheat," Bellatrix spoke with a low voice. "I'll have the both of you horribly murdered."

Hermione's eyes flew open, but the grin and the twinkle in her Bella's eyes told her enough to relax again. The dark witch kept embracing her while turning to Luna. "Ah, Lovegood. What's this I hear about a pamphlet going around?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna "I didn't think to bother you with it, but it's from our dissident friends of the Samizdat circle. For your information, Hermione, these are mostly disgruntled academics who are critical of Bellatrix's regime. They fear the Walpurgis Union will become more of a police state than they claim it already is."

"I'm familiar with them," Hermione replied, remembering the incident in Bellatrix's court.

Next to her, Bellatrix bristled. "Is that right? Well, I won't have wankers like that spoiling the mood for everybody else. Have them rounded up and flogged or something."

Hermione blinked once. Twice. "Wait," she said. "Come now, surely Empress Bellatrix the First can handle a bit of criticism? How popular is this pamphlet anyway, Luna?"

"By all accounts, not very."

"Allow your people to show a bit of dissent if they want to. You remain in charge," said Hermione. "Besides, if you round them up to be flogged, you're only proving their point."

The was a broad smile before Bellatrix leaned in for another kiss. "You see, Luna, _this_ is why Hermione is part of my inner circle. I have come to claim her, so kindly make yourself scarce. You may bugger off now. Come on. Shoo. Shoo!"

Luna smiled and bowed. "We'll talk later, Hermione."

Still not feeling very comfortable about her role in the supposed ending of the world, but then again which sane person wouldn't be? Hermione found herself being dragged to the double doors leading onto the balcony and into the evening. The sky was clear and the stars were out. It was there where she and Bellatrix enjoyed being away from the crowd for a bit.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself more than I am," Bellatrix whispered as she stood next to Hermione and leaned onto the stone balustrade to look upon the lush garden below. To think all of this beauty was disillusioned to appear as a sorry ruin to any Muggles living nearby.

"I thought you'd enjoy these sort of parties," Hermione replied. "Wasn't your family wizarding aristocracy who held balls like this often?"

"Don't remind me," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Balls, soirees, upper-class parties. All excuses for my mum to dress me up like a pretty doll and parade me in front of potential suitors. Remember the rules, mind your manners, smile pretty and act like a lady. I hated it. I did everything I could to avoid it. I often snuck away to find a _real_ party where I could have fun. Trust me. That party inside? It's the kind of party I'd do my best to avoid like the dragon pox when I was younger."

It was then that, in the distance and a bit beyond the castle walls, a bolt of magic was fired into the air and exploded loudly. As magical lights flittered down, the word 'Victory!' formed in the night sky accompanied by loud cheers in the distance.

Hermione wasn't surprised that so many of the wizards whom had come to see the coronation had stayed to celebrate. From what she'd heard, there was dancing, music, fresh food and plenty of drinks. When she turned to Bellatrix, she found her love already grinning at her.

"That sounds like a _real_ party to me," she smirked.

"We can't!" Hermione hissed. "There's heads of state, ambassadors and..."

"Sssssshhhh," Bellatrix put a finger on Hermione's lips. "You're so prim and proper all the time."

Before Hermione could formulate a rebuttal, she was already being apparated away.

* * *

**16th of April 2004 – Sudoga, Russia – Muromtzevo castle royal guestroom**

Well, that had certainly been... interesting. Aside from the gasps of awe and the hushed silence that followed when the partying people suddenly found her Empress standing among them, many people approached Bellatrix and it was easy to see that they adored her. To Hermione's own surprise, there were many people whom had approached her as well and she awkwardly nodded her appreciation when, one by one, they thanked her for ending the war. The most touching moment was when an elderly man in tears took her in a firm embrace, thanking her profusely for making it possible for his three daughters whom had been fighting on the front lines to finally come home.

The party had quickly resumed when Bellatrix had ordered it so. Food was served, music played and alcohol poured by the gallons. And that's when the trouble started. Hermione moved among the people with ease, being more comfortable after having had a few drinks. But only a few.

Bellatrix. Well, she drank more. A _lot_ more. Granted it was a celebration, but that was no reason to feel obligated to drink oneself into a coma. There were also plenty of muggle-borns there and they had brought Muggle music with them, which indirectly led to the highlight of the evening; Bella drunkenly dancing on a table while mouthing along with Peter Gabriel's Big Time to the enthusiastic cheers of her people. Though the song itself had been quite appropriate to the situation, it was probably a good thing that Bella had been too drunk to notice she was rocking out to a Muggle song.

Long after midnight, it was time to go home, which led Hermione to be in the situation she was in now; dragging along a Bellatrix who was too drunk to keep standing or walk to their bedroom in Muromtzevo castle.

"Wheriss the peoplsh?" Bellatrix slurred while struggling to keep standing. "Ish so quietttt... Tellss them to sssttarttsshhh the party again! Ordersh from their Empressh!"

' _Yikes'_ thought Hermione while smelling the alcohol on Bellatrix's breath. ' _Lets keep her away from the fireplace'_.

"Party's over," Hermione said. "People have gone home now. Time for bed, Bella."

"Oooohhh," Bellatrix shook with giggles while Hermione was glad to have finally found their bedroom. Just when she opened the door, a drunkenly chuckling Bellatrix lashed out with her hand to cup her breast while clicking with her tongue. "We knowssss what happensh in bedsshh!"

Hermione rolled her eyes while Bellatrix fiddled with the strap of her dress, no longer having the fine motor control to loosen any clasps. She dragged her dark witch inside the room and kicked the door closed by kicking back with her foot... not easy to do when balancing a squirmy drunk woman on one hand who was trying to undo her dress. "Oh, come on. You're too drunk to even stand, let alone make love to anyone."

"Sasysshh youuu!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes while replying spitefully. "I'msh gonna makesh you SCREAM MY NAMESHHH!"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't thrown up yet," said Hermione while guiding Bellatrix to the bed. The dark witch slipped from her arm and fell face forward onto the bed with a groan, her face smushed into the sheets. "God, you're going to have the worst hang-over tomorrow."

While she was struggling to gets Bella's boots off, she noticed the dark witch was squirming. "Bella, stop it!" Hermione let out an annoyed grunt.

"Hermione? Hermione?" Bellatrix called out frantically. "Wheresh are you?!"

There was developing panic on her voice, which concerned Hermione. "I'm just here getting your boots off. We don't want mud and sand in our bed." Clonk. Clonk. And two boots lay on the ground.

"Wheresh are you?! Where?!" Bellatrix was definitely getting panicked now. "Hermione! Hermione, don't go!"

"I'm right here! I..." Hermione's words caught in her throat when she saw that Bellatrix had pulled her body into a fetal position and started to sob loudly.

"Come back. Come back," her lower lip trembled as tears streamed from her eyes. "Don't leave me, Hermione. Don't leave me here all alone and in the dark."

Without a second thought, Hermione lay down next to her and as soon as Bellatrix became aware of her presence, she clutched onto her with all her might, pressing her body against hers and laying her head against her chest while she shook from the sobs. "Never leave me. Never leave me."

Seeing her Bellatrix like this made Hermione's heart break. She remembered the time Bellatrix had told her about the girl in Azkaban she had feelings for; the one whom had been released after her sentence had run its course and then left her alone in her cell. It seemed it had left more pain in her heart than Bellatrix had been letting on.

"Never," said Hermione while stroking her curly hair. "Never."

The dark witch seemed to relax a little, but didn't dare to let go. It was obviously the alcohol stripping away inhibitions and bringing these fears to the surface. Still, she was thankful that Bella would forget all about this come tomorrow morning and her dark witch would be her old prideful, arrogant and abrasive self once more.

Albeit with an undoubtedly tremendous post-partying headache.

For now, she would hold her into the night while the both of them slept in their dresses.


	25. Lovers In Japan

**17th of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

Hermione Granger, clad in a kimono, stood on the deck of the vacation house given to Bellatrix by the Japanese Shogun which in turn had been given to her. Though 'vacation house' was a misnomer; it was a beautiful and ancient traditional Japanese one-story mansion at the edge of a wonderful and mysterious volcanic lake surrounded by a gorgeous forests and steep cliffs on all sides which kept the tourists away. One only needed to step from the tatami-mats through the sliding doors onto the deck for a breath-taking view of the lake and the mountains beyond.

So quiet. So tranquil. This world was truly a beautiful place.

And so was the house. Its interior was typical Japanese, but Hermione wanted to bring in some western furniture to make it more to her liking. Two bedrooms, two guest suites, a sizable living area, a cozy study, fully stocked kitchen and even a sand-garden. Oh, this would be a perfect place to retreat from the busy life of politics and the game of diplomacy.

In fact, that was what she was doing right now. The process of demilitarization was going so well that her immediate attention wasn't needed and while Luna was making preparations for the delegation's visit to the UK, all Hermione could do was wait. It afforded her some precious time to relax.

In general, her mood was upbeat and hopeful. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in some of the clean air while she listened to the soothing sounds of the birds living on and around the lake. She was also seeing a lot less shadows and other... _things_... now that she was under a lot less stress, as it was a lot easier to protect her mind by simply blocking them out.

Hermione got a poignant reminder that she wasn't alone when a nimble hand snaked over her shoulder and slid underneath her kimono to rest upon her breast. Her breath caught in her throat when Bellatrix gently massaged her while clamping down her teeth on the nape of her neck.

"Hmmm," Bellatrix muttered. "Mudblood tastes wonderful."

"Bella," Hermione husked. "Haven't you had enough of that?"

"Never," Bellatrix whispered in her ear, putting power behind her flirt by first flicking her tongue around her earlobe before gently suckling on it. Typical, really... due to the hectic days after the Treaty going in effect, they'd both been either so busy or so tired that they hadn't made love all week. Of course, Bellatrix demanded compensation during this week of holiday.

A giggle caught in her throat while the utterly relentless Bellatrix not-so-gently pushed her back inside, into the living room and the master bedroom through the sliding doors. She wasn't quite sure where her kimono had gone, only that it was now very much missing. Hermione had a very short moment to enjoy the nice feeling of cool air on her body before she was roughly thrown down onto the two-person futon on the floor

The futon was wonderful; fluffy, thick, soft and dense. Just as wonderful to sleep as it was to make love in. In fact, Hermione thought it was much nicer than their giant bed back at Buyan island. Though that might also had something to with Bellatrix leading a trail of kisses over her belly in that moment.

Relentless and merciless, Bellatrix attacked her body without remorse. Nails dug into the soft skin of her inner thighs, her breath quickened and her back arched as Bellatrix treated her to a severe tongue-lashing. Pants and sighs turned into moans and screams; Bellatrix's continuing torture caused her body to thrash back and forth while Hermione reached down and roughly grabbed a handful of curly dark hair. There was no gentle love here; this was quick, rough and dirty sex for the sake of sex.

And Hermione was perfectly alright with that.

The young witch threw her head back while her entire body shook, beads of sweat running down her brow while she let out an orgasmic scream

A still panting Hermione lay on her back while a smirking Bellatrix lay next to her on her side, playfully running her fingers along the length of Hermione's belly. God, this woman was beautiful; better yet, the magnificent and terrible Bella was all _hers_.

The dark witch winked at her, as if trying to say ' _look what I did!'_

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Hermione spoke with sincerity, a warm smile creeping over her features.

A chuckle caught in Bellatrix's throat before she shifted to allow her to snuggle up against her. After sharing yet another wonderful kiss, the dark witch looked down upon her with the most loving of eyes. "Hermione Granger," Bellatrix replied softly. "We still have to think of a proper title for you. I think Queen-consort will do perfectly. 'Mistress' is so... inaccurate. We need a proper title for the proper experience."

"Hah," Hermione giggled in response. "Being with you is an experience, alright."

"Oh, pish posh, you love it," Bellatrix smirked. "I suppose you _could_ marry a husband, pop out 2.4 kids and try to build a Ministry career, but you know you'll be bored stiff within a few years. Instead, you can rule the Walpurgis Union at my side as my Queen-Consort. I know I'm the excitement in your life you deserve."

"You're unpredictable," Hermione grinned while rolling on top of her dark witch, who winked at her as she allowed it. "You're petty, arrogant and infuriating at the best of times. And god, I love the bones of you."

A throaty chuckle sounded when Bellatrix wrapped her arms around her. Breasts pressed against breasts as their lips crushed together. "Oh," Bellatrix whispered in between kisses. "You're one to talk, my overly moralistic, know-it-all, wonderful little bitch. And trust me, you're just as infuriating to me as I am to you!"

Hermione had heard enough and invaded Bellatrix's mouth with her tongue. There was yet more lovemaking to be done.

* * *

**18th of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

It was raining heavily outside, yet the air was quite warm for the time of year. Hermione sat crosslegged on the tatami mats with a book, but rather than reading she watched the rain fall through the slid open doors. Smells of a rain-drenched forest tickled her eager nose; it was a smell she had always loved and reminded her of spending time in the summer with her grandparents in Hayfield. She lay her book to the side and simply watched, listening to the rain falling onto the tiled roof. Soothing.

In contrast, Bellatrix was restless. She had been since this morning. Currently, she was silently looking out the window, fidgeting with her hair for a bit before moving on to the table to grab the newspaper. As expected, she threw it down with a sigh almost as quickly as she had picked it up. On the front page was the photograph of her dancing drunkenly on the table while celebrating. ' _Empress of the People!'_ the headline read. The article was full of praise for her, but Bellatrix's aristocratic tendencies were not easily defeated; she couldn't shake the feeling that she had lost face.

"Do we have any tea?" Bellatrix asked, the irritation obvious on her face. "Proper tea, please. With milk and sugar. Not that Japanese green shite."

"The larder is fully stocked with proper English tea," Hermione replied while getting up. "Shall I fix us a pot?"

"No... I mean, yes," Bellatrix sighed.

Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Bella. What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Bellatrix frowned. "Nothing is wrong. Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Bella, you've not been yourself," Hermione replied. "Since we've left, you've been one of two things; overly amorous or depressingly broody."

For a moment, Bellatrix seemed rather conflicted until a broad grin crossed her features and two eager hands crept up to Hermione's sides. "I know which one of the two the both of us prefer."

Hermione said nothing, instead looking her in the eye. "Bella," she finally whispered. "You don't have to hide your feelings from me. Please, if there's something going on, just tell me. What happened just before we left?"

Bellatrix threw up her hands and let out a deep sigh. There was more conflict in her face as she crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip while pacing in small circles. For a moment, all which could be heard is the rain falling down upon the roof and the deck outside.

"I received a letter mere hours before we left on this little holiday of hours," Bellatrix spoke in a softer voice that usual, lacking her usual confidence and conviction. "I haven't replied yet. Not sure if I will. It... it was from Cissy."

Hermione's heart sank; she quite knew how much Bellatrix's family meant to her. "Was it... not good?"

"That's just it, I don't know," replied Bellatrix. "But I'm leaning towards not good."

"What did your sister write?"

Bellatrix bit her lip for a moment. "It was a short letter. Very... businesslike. She congratulated me with my victory and my crowning and expressed her hopes for the Malfoys to be able to do business with the Walpurgis Union. Full stop."

Hermione nodded. Bella was right; it had been short and to the point. "Why is this not a good thing?"

"Thing is," said Bellatrix. "When I was a prisoner in Azkaban, we were allowed to receive and send letters once in a while. Cissy always wrote long letters to tell me everything which had happened to her. How tall Draco was standing, some barmy thing Lucius had done. She'd even told me some tidbits about Andromeda. There were feelings in her letters, hoping that I was doing well. She wrote that she missed me."

Bellatrix had never stopped pacing, but she looked... defeated. Her head hung low and her eyes had gone slightly watery. "This letter? All business. No feelings there. But I know she's trying to manipulate me like the good little Slytherin she is. Apparently, I'm suddenly good enough for her now that I have gained power. She's hoping her family can profit off me, but still wants nothing to do with me."

Her dark witch was starting to get angry now. "Well, it won't work!" Bellatrix hissed angrily, not at Hermione but towards her general direction. "If she rejects me, then I will reject her! When I get back to the palace, I'll write to her that she can get stuffed! Yes, that's what I'll do. Better yet, I'll make it a bloody howler! One that swears so loud it'll make her eardrums pop!"

"Don't do that," Hermione spoke softly. "Don't close this door, Bella. You love your sister. Even if this is just meant for personal gain on her part, it can be the start of a reconciliation if you let it be. Don't do something you'll regret."

The rain was starting to let up a little just as Bellatrix nodded briefly. Not looking so defeated anymore, Bellatrix shook her head. "Where were you when I was seventeen?" she asked softly.

"Uhm," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not born for another ten years?"

The dark witch let out a brief groan when reminded of their age difference. "You know what I mean," Bellatrix replied. "If I would have had you back then, my life would have been less of a mess."

Hermione crossed the distance and embraced her. "Empress of the Walpurgis Union," Hermione whispered, enjoying her closeness. "I'd say you did alright."

"After a few severe bumps on the road," said Bellatrix.

"Still want that tea?"

"Fuck the tea," grinned Bellatrix while leaning in for a kiss.

* * *

**19th of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

When Hermione came back from a lovely morning stroll around the lake, she could hear laughter coming from inside the house. Now, Bellatrix was sleeping so peacefully when she woke up that she had left her in the futon to sleep in, but whatever the reason she was now in gales of laughter. Now, this did make Hermione curious as this wasn't Bellatrix's usual mocking cackle but rather one of genuine enjoyment.

"Bella?" Hermione called out when she stepped onto the deck and removed her shoes to go inside.

"In here," replied Bellatrix from the bedroom in between fits of laughter. And there Hermione found her, lying on the futon on her stomach with her nose in a book.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked.

"This," Bellatrix grinned. "I woke up from an owl delivery some time after you left. It was a package from Rookwood."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Bella, I thought we agreed on no work during our holiday."

"Oh, this isn't work," grinned Bellatrix, obviously amused. "Look at what's doing the rounds at the palace."

Bellatrix tossed her the book which Hermione promptly caught. "A book?" Hermione said and read the title. "Fifty shades of Twilight?" The art on the cover, although calling it that was giving it far to much credit, was reminiscent of those pocket romances sold for 50p at the supermarket. It depicted a rather timid looking brown haired girl in a state of half-undress in front of a curly dark haired woman in a dress with low cut cleavage sporting a predatory grin. It took her a few moments to realize that these were supposed to be herself and Bellatrix! She turned the book around and read the blurb on the back. ' _When the innocent young diplomat Hermione Granger is kidnapped against her will and brought before the Dark Queen Bellatrix Black, she fears her life has come to an end. A prisoner in a gilded cage, will she give in to her throbbing desires for a woman whom has once been her enemy?'_

"Oh my god!" Hermione groaned in disgust. "Someone wrote fiction… fan-fiction. About US?!"

"Absolutely," laughed Bellatrix as she lay on her back, exposing her upper body to Hermione. "It's fairly tacky, but surprisingly cute."

"So quickly?" Hermione wondered. "It's barely been a week since you've outed me."

"Nah, Augustus suspects it was written by someone at the palace who knew that we were involved long before my coronation ceremony," shrugged Bellatrix. "I've toyed with the idea to have Lovegood ferret out the author, but only because I want a sequel. It's just so hilarious."

Hermione sighed. "It's not that bad, I suppose. People will have their fantasies, and I have to admit that there is something fairly romantic about our story."

There was a grin on Bellatrix's face. Why was there a mocking grin on her lover's face? Hermione didn't like that at all.

"Herrrrrmione," Bellatrix let the 'r' in her name roll over her tongue while she gave her a knowing grin of sadistic mirth. "Turn to page 96."

Hermione shrugged. "Alright," she sighed and turned the page to read. ' _And so she stood before her, that magnificently extravagant Dark Lady she so desired. She felt her knees tremble as the glorious ruler slowly let the black robe slide down her perfect pale skin. Hermione drank in the sight of her. Those splendiforous red lips, those stygian deep dark pools that were her eyes. And her breasts. Oh, her breasts. They were breastiest breasts in the history of breasts. One could say, the best of breast. The young girl trembled before the magnificence which was the Dark Lady, suddenly becoming acutely aware that her undergarment had become moist with anticipation of having this wonderful Dark Lady pleasure her until long past the witching hour. Hermione licked her lips at the thought of eager fingers thrusting inside of her again and again..._ '

"Oh, GOD!" Hermione felt a bright blush cross over her cheeks.

"I know!" exclaimed an enthusiastic Bellatrix. "Hilarious, isn't it?"

"That's not the word I would use," Hermione sighed.

"Oh, pish posh, miss prude," Bellatrix pouted. "You're no fun."

"Please tell me this is the only copy. It looks to be self-published."

Again that grin. Oh, Hermione wished Bella would stop with that grin. "Oh, they're popping up all over the Union."

The blush was quickly faded when Hermione felt the blood drain from her cheeks. "This is slander! Lies!"

"Cute lies, though," said Bellatrix while accio-ing the book away from Hermione.

"I never thought I'd be in favor of book burning, but in this case I'd make an exception," muttered Hermione darkly after crossing her arms.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Bellatrix after flipping through the book. "Ahum, _chapter 10: Hermione gets a spanking_. Oh, look, here's an illustration!"

Hermione blinked. "Can you even do that? That would only work if we both had three legs!"

"I know! It's great, isn't it?!" replied Bellatrix. "Would you like to try this?"

"No! Well... maybe?"

Bellatrix opened a random page and started reading, almost instantly snickering. ' _… her tongue slithered over her eager lady-bits like a serpent in the grass seeking out a flighty rabbit to constrict. The temple of pleasure quaked as the writhing organ of taste..._ '

"STOP IT!" Hermione rushed forward. Bellatrix anticipated this and rolled away. Hermione missed her mark, but quickly scrambled over her lover to reach for the book. Bellatrix growled and held the book just out of her reach while pressing an open palm against Hermione's forehead. The young witch flailed at her. "Give me that book!"

"NO!" Bellatrix shrieked. The two woman flailed around in bed for a bit, until the dark witch had apparently had enough of playing around. Hermione had the wind knocked out of her when the smaller woman outmaneuvered her; Hermione landed on her stomach and suddenly found the tip of Bella's wand pressing against the side of her neck. A shock went through her and immediately her entire body went numb. Hermione felt Bellatrix's weight shifting onto her back, her dark lover's mouth inches away from her ear.

"Can't... move..." Hermione whimpered weakly.

"Ssssh," Bellatrix mocked. "Just a muscle relaxant. You'll be fine in about half an hour. In the meantime, I shall happily distract you with some light reading."

Hermione groaned when she felt Bellatrix shift and heard the sound of pages flipping.

"Ahum," started Bellatrix. " _Her nipples stood so firm and erect they could be used to cut glass. Or at least poke somebody's eye out. The young girl trembled in front of the Dark Lady as she stood nude in the moonlight. She felt her mouth go dry when two lovely bouncy breasts bounced just for her. The Dark Lady approached, her nimble tongue twirling around her index finger, as if showing off what she was planning to use it for. Her venus temple, growing moist with lust, itched for swift and violent entry. She whimpered, nay, BEGGED for the Dark Lady to use her, abuse her and humiliate her utterly. 'Please,' Hermione gasped, feeling herself go weak in the knees. 'Take my virginity. My hymen yearns to be breached at long last!'."_

"Nooooooooooooooo," Hermione whimpered into her pillow as the relentless literary torture continued on. And on. And on.

* * *

**20th of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

"I'll swear I will come visit, Ophelia," smiled Hermione having thrust her head into the floo. Japanese irori fireplaces were quite different, located in a square pit in the floor in the middle of a room. This allowed Hermione to lay down comfortably on a mat with her head in the fire and gave her a good look of her parent's house through a distorted green haze. Her sister, ever the plucky child, had demanded a visit from her 'big sis' citing that Hermione hadn't come to see her often enough the past few months.

"I miss you," pouted the child. "I like it when you tell me stories."

"Hm, I'm sorry I've been so busy. Did mum tell you why?" Hermione asked.

Ophelia nodded. "Mum says you've stopped a lot of people from hurting each other."

"Yes, I have," said Hermione. "When I get back from my holiday, we're going to spend some time together as a family, hm? I promise."

"Will you bring me back a present?" Ophelia asked, perking up. It made Hermione snicker a bit; young children were nothing if materialistic. "Oh, and tell Bella that the Easter Bunny is real. He left chocolate eggs for me."

"NONSENSE!" sounded from Bellatrix in the other room, but it was the only thing she spoke.

"Okay, little one," sounded her father. "Time for bed now."

"Awww.."

Hermione watched through the floo as Ophelia waved a sad goodbye when mum picked up up to carry her to her bedroom. Her father squatted by the fireplace. "Sorry about that, puppet," he said with a smile. "Ophelia was just really restless. We all know how busy you've been, but Ophelia doesn't really understand how important your work is. Honestly, we don't even want her to understand at her age."

"I get that," said Hermione. "I'll come spend a weekend at Turku as soon as I can."

"Puppet," said her father. "You do know how proud your mum and I are of you, right?"

Oh, she knew. But she was still touched. In a way she was still much like the little girl she had been, desperate for the approval of parents, teachers and peers. "Thanks dad," said Hermione. "Though there's still so much work to be done. Distrust and animosity doesn't simply disappear with the signing of a treaty. It's going to take decades of work."

"You can't fix the world, puppet," said her father. "But you can, at least, give it a good kick in the arse to get things running. How's Bella doing?"

"BELLA IS ANNOYED!" sounded from the other room. "AND VERY IMPATIENT!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's fine," she replied. "Her cheerful, usual self."

"Well, you two enjoy the rest of your holiday together," said her father. "You've certainly earned it. Have a wonderful, uhm, whatever time it is there. I could never work out these timezones."

"Thanks dad," said Hermione. "Talk to you soon."

Hermione withdrew her head from the fireplace and the green flames dimmed, turning back in their usual red-orange colors.

"FINALLY!" Bellatrix shouted from the bedroom.

And just to mess with her, Hermione grinned and threw another hand of floo powder into the fireplace. As soon as the tell-tale explosion of floo powder meeting fire resounded, there was the expected groan and loud cursing coming from the other room. After speaking the name of the person she wanted the floo to connect to, there was a moment when the fire seemed to freeze while the floo network worked through the connections necessary. In fact, it only worked because Ron and his family were currently on the mainland of Europe and in Walpurgis territory, having been given special dispensation to come visit Charlie.

"HERMIONE!" sounded Ron, even enthusiastic. "I was hoping to hear from you."

"Hey Ron," smiled Hermione. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I imagine you and your family have a lot to talk about."

"Ah, we're great. Charlie's great, the house at the reservation's been great. Even the wallies watching our every move are great blokes... even though they're, you know, watching our every move."

"Sorry about that, Ron," Hermione spoke sincerely. "I've tried my best, but Dolohov insisted on tight security during your visit. It just goes to show we still have a lot of work to do to bring us all closer together. Right now, our borders are shut tighter than a goblin's vault; soon, there'll be talks about prisoner transfers, trade agreements and to set rules for international transits between our territories. Lots of hard work ahead, Ron."

"Ah," Ron shrugged. "Hermione Granger is on the case. Better you than me, though. I think I might snore myself through those diplomatic things. That's considered an insult, right?"

"I would think so, yes," Hermione laughed.

"Oooh! Ooooh!" Ron's eyes suddenly lit up. "BRAIN-ATTACK! Quidditch World Cup. We haven't had a proper Quidditch World Cup since the start of this bloody war."

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Hermione rubbed her chin. "Sporting events are a good way to bring people closer together, organizing one would be an international diplomatic endeavor and I know for a fact that the Walpurgis Union has plenty of teams who'd love to attend."

"Hah," Ron winked. "Maybe this idea could win me the Norbert Peace Price."

"I think you mean Nobel Peace Price," laughed Hermione. "Have you heard from Harry?"

"He's back in ole Blighty, probably getting his ears yelled off by Snape. You know how it goes. Snape is _not_ happy with this truce. Not at all," Ron shrugged. "But who cares what _he_ thinks anyway. Say, when I do get to see that fancy new house of yours?"

"I'd love to show it to you, but that would require even more paperwork and guards," sighed Hermione. "The location is currently classified as top secret. You know what, I'll send you some pictures through the floo later to give you an idea. Eventually, you and Harry will have to come for a visit."

"Sounds good. Is Bellatrix there with you?"

"SHE IS!" sounded from the bedroom. "AND SHE'S WAITING IMPATIENTLY FOR HERMIONE TO GET OFF THE FLOO SO SHE CAN SHOW HER ALL THE CORNERS OF THIS BEDROOM!"

"Oh, dear god," Hermione blushed in embarrassment while Ron's eyes grew wide as saucers.

A goofy grin appeared on his face. "Hot!" he grinned.

* * *

**21st of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

When Hermione had started her tumultuous relationship with Bellatrix, she could best be described as a blushing virgin. Now, she knew exactly how to please a woman best, as was evidenced by the slight mewing moans Bellatrix produced while she lay panting underneath her on the futon. Indeed, in their relationship, Bellatrix might be the 'creative' partner who introduced her to new and sexier things... and then Hermione would do her best to perfect that experience.

Her fingers crooked at just the right depth, her thumb moved with just the right rhythm as she pressed her body against her lover at just the right angle, and while twirling her tongue around a tout nipple with just the right pressure. She had even found the best way to move so she could gently rub her loins against Bellatrix's leg for the sake of her own pleasure.

Hermione prided herself in being a student eager to learn and quick to pick up new skills with all the zeal of an ardent perfectionist. Her rewards were the climatic sighs and shudders of her dark witch, and the love she poured into their deep post-coital kiss.

The sun had set, the cicada's were singing outside and the two women lay entwined on the futon, Hermione having parked her head on Bellatrix's chest.

"Sleepy..." Hermione drawled while closing her eyes.

"What?" said Bellatrix. "Already?"

"Hm?" said Hermione. "We're keeping score now?"

"Hah, you keep going like this and I'm going to have to up my game," said Bellatrix while stroking her long brown hair. She planted a kiss on the top of her head. "My lovely, dirty little witch."

"Hmmm."

"I can't believe you kept this thing," said Bellatrix. When Hermione opened her eyes for a moment, she saw Bellatrix holding the Bellatrix-ragdoll she had bought in Hekstreet almost a year ago.

"She's cute, isn't she?" Hermione smiled and closed her eyes again, enjoying the softness that was Bellatrix's body. "I thought about giving her to Ophelia, but I just like to keep her for myself." Truly, it was a silly little thing with its woolen hair and black button eyes, but she had rather grown attached to it.

"Interesting how you take that doll to bed with you when you have the real thing," said Bellatrix while putting it down next to the futon.

"I bought it before I... I was scared of you," said Hermione. "I'm not afraid to admit that now. The ragdoll... I thought of her whenever you became overwhelming to deal with. In truth, she helped me cope with you. Now that I've come to love you, I just kept the doll for fun."

Hermione opened her eyes to find the dark witch staring at her incredulously. "I can't be that frightening."

"You have no idea how scary you can be," Hermione chuckled. " _Especially_ when you're trying to be nice."

"Oh, I think I have a fair idea how frightening I can be," winked Bellatrix. "When I want to, that is."

Hermione felt Bellatrix's nails rake over her back and swiftly retaliated by tracing patterns around the dark witch's bellybutton. "It makes me wonder," asked Bellatrix. "What could we be if our lives had been different? No dark lords, no wars, no Azkaban..."

The young witch smiled and rolled on top of her loved, pressing down and sharing a brief kiss with her. Two gentle, eager arms wrapped around her while Hermione settled for using Bellatrix's chest for a pillow. "A teacher. You'd be a teacher."

That made her dark witch laugh. "Me?! A teacher?"

"Why not? You're talented, you're charismatic..."

"... I could scare annoying troublemaking students shitless."

"That too."

"Well," Bellatrix grinned. "I suppose I could be a supremely intelligent and glamorous DADA teacher one very cute, naive and blushing Hermione Granger would have a tremendous crush on."

That made Hermione laugh. "She would at that," replied Hermione. "I think you could be a female Gilderoy Lockheart..."

Bellatrix made a face. "Oh, that stings, little dove."

Hermione quickly realized what Bellatrix had meant. "Well, without all the taking credit for other wizards' accomplishments and having actually done them, of course."

"Well-traveled adventurer, fame and fortune, acres and acres of lusty ladies waiting in line to bed me," Bellatrix smirked. "I rather like that idea."

"Acres and acres of lusty ladies, hm?" Hermione narrowed her eyes in a faux manner.

Bellatrix smirked, lay her hands on Hermione's cheeks and brought her face to hers. "That is, until my wonderful star pupil would make me fall for her."

"Sounds good to me," said Hermione while their lips brushed. "It's nice to fantasize. But this is the reality we've been given. It might not be perfect, but it can be what we choose it to be."

"Hm," replied Bellatrix. "I think I rather like this reality."

"I meant to ask you for some time now..."

"Hm?" said Bellatrix. "Out with it, little dove."

"You died," Hermione said. "Actually died. What do you remember?"

Bellatrix frowned ever so briefly, glancing past Hermione as she rolled her head away from her to watch the ceiling. "Honestly? I don't know. Whenever I tried to remember, I felt such pain in my head that it felt like my brain was exploding. It was worse than the cruciatus curse, worse than the headaches I get now. So I stopped trying to remember. I simply like to think that death itself was powerless to stop me!"

"Nothing at all?" Hermione asked. "Harry said that after Voldemort 'killed' him, he was in some sort of limbo which looked like King's Cross. I wonder if you saw something similar. So few people have come back from the dead to share their experiences."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Bellatrix smirked. "There's just flashes. Mostly of my old family mansion and… there was something else there. Something... AAH!"

Hermione's eyes brimmed with concern after the dark witch let out a sharp hiss and her face contorted in pain. Her chest heaved, her eyes bulged as she started to hyperventilate. "Bella! I'm so sorry, I..."

"Can we... just talk about something else, please?" Bellatrix half-chuckled through the pain.

In truth, the reaction worried Hermione to no end. Just want kind of hold did that horrid creature still have over her Bella? In the end, she settled for holding her love while the both of them slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**22nd of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

Sushi.

Of course Hermione had enjoyed sushi before. She'd lived in London, after all. She'd eaten it in railway stations where it was of average quality. She'd eaten it in London Japanese restaurants with her parents where the quality was good. But the tray of sushi which had been delivered today had been made by a master chef and the quality was nothing short of an orgasmic taste experience.

Bellatrix and Hermione, clad in kimonos, sat crosslegged in the living room of the house around the low wooden table. Their midday meal was located on a big plate and consisted of maki, sashimi and tamaki, along with various sauces. Hermione poured a bit of soy sauce over a piece, gently picked it up and popped it into her mouth. As soon as it touched her tongue, she closed her eyes, let it fall apart on her tongue and let the taste explosion wash over her. When she opened her eyes again, she found a smirking Bellatrix looking at her.

"Little dove," she laughed. "You looked like you were about to come. Need I remind you that it's simply a bit of fish on a ball of rice."

"Oh, you philistine," Hermione rolled her eyes. "This particular batch is made by Jiro Ono himself."

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"Just try it. You'll see," said Hermione. "I can't believe you've never had sushi. You're a cosmopolitan aristocrat."

"I'm more of a beluga caviar kind of person."

"Come on. Don't be a spoilsport."

"I have a better idea," said Bellatrix. "You just keep eating."

Hermione didn't trust Bellatrix for one bit. She eyed her love warily until the desire to eat another bit of sushi became too great to ignore. After eyeing a particularly succulent looking bit of sashimi for a short while, she picked it up with her chopsticks and brought it to her mouth. Again the taste explosion, but this time she felt her kimono being pulled off her shoulder. While eating, Bellatrix poured some soy sauce on the nape of her neck and gently licked it off, her soft lips lingering on her skin and biting down softly. "Wow," Hermione shuddered.

Another piece was popped into her mouth and again she felt Bellatrix's lips sliding over her skin to lick off some soy sauce. The tip of her tongue ran up the side of her neck, causing her to shudder and groan lustfully.

A low chuckle emerged from Bellatrix's throat after licking off the Nitsume sauce. "My, my, my, you really _are_ about to come, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," Hermione closed her eyes. God, how she loved this woman.

The next piece found her way into her mouth and, this time, the sauce Bellatrix put on her shoulder had a much thicker consistency. Her tongue followed the usual path, but Hermione was startled when the dark witch let out an agonized shriek and ended up coughing up a storm while lying on the ground grasping her throat.

"Bella?!" Hermione was quickly upon her. "What's wrong?"

"My mouth is on fire!" the dark witch shouted in a mixture of anger and pain. Hermione quickly slid two fingers over the residue of the sauce still on her shoulder and found it to be a green paste. Hermione briefly giggled.

"Bella," she snickered. "That's wasabi! You smeared half a bowl on my shoulder and licked it all off!"

Bellatrix rushed forward, made a grab for her curved wand, aimed it at herself and fired off a frost charm right into her mouth. With icicles hanging from her chin, Bellatrix hugged herself while shivering and her breath condensed as it passed her now chilled mouth and nasal cavity. "Oh, that bloody fucking dago food! It's fish and chips only from now on!"

A laughing Hermione just managed to save the plate with the sushi on it just before Bellatrix aimed her wand and mercilessly blasted the table to timbers.

* * *

**22nd of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

_She couldn't move! Why couldn't she move?!_

_Hermione Granger floated in front of the balcony where Bellatrix was giving her victory speech to the people of the Walpurgis Union. Tendrils entered her head and body as she animatedly delivered her speech as if nothing was wrong. Bellatrix didn't see them, the people didn't see them. But Hermione did._

_Why couldn't she move?!_

_Then she felt something move... through her. Fear gripped her by the throat as she managed to angle her eyes down to see what was happening._

_And she screamed._

_Tendrils were moving through her body, limbs and, terrifyingly enough, she felt several move through her skull when one wrapped around her throat and squeezed tightly to silence her. Fighting for breath, she felt her body snap upwards when the tendrils pulled. The world passed her with impossible speed, terrifying her even further. Moments later, she found herself floating in the coldness of space, looking upon a dying red giant star in the distance. Her body... it was translucent. Had whatever had infected her also killed her?_

_Her ordeal wasn't over. Not content with only ripping her soul from her body, slowly, bit by bit, her mind was being disseminated. Worse yet; she felt it happen. Her memories were being taken away from her; childhood memories, friendships, accomplishments, love… all were drifting away from her like dust upon the cosmic winds. Her personality was violently being torn to shreds; feelings, hopes, dreams. All gone._

_The bare remnants of Hermione's self screamed in terror as she desperately tried to keep that what little remained of her from falling apart into oblivion._

" _Little dove! Little dove! HERMIONE!"_

The sound of Bellatrix's voice sounded in her mind and brought her back to reality. It took her a moment to realize it was the middle of the night and she was still in bed and in Japan during her holiday with Bella. Her chest heaved with quickened breath, her body was drenched in cold sweat and she squeezed her eyes shut as she lay in the fetal position, shivering.

"Merlin, Hermione," called Bellatrix as she sat next to her, stroking her long brown hair. "You were trashing about and shouting your head off. In fact, you struck me across the face just now."

"Sorry," Hermione whispered. "I... it was just so real."

"You give me a lot of grief about my headaches, but those nightmares you've been having seem to be getting a lot worse," said Bellatrix. "This is the third time this week."

The dark witch reached over to the small table next to the bed where a decanter of cold water stood. After pouring a glass, she handed it to Hermione.

"Thanks," replied Hermione as she sat up and put the glass to her lips. The cold soothing liquid slid down her parched throat. When the glass was empty, she put it against her forehead.

"Can you remember this time?" Bellatrix asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione replied. "Some... _thing_ was tearing my body and my soul apart. I tried desperately to fight it, but in the end it shredded me into nothingness."

Hermione leaned against Bellatrix, and her dark lover quickly allowed her to lean into her. "There, there," she spoke with an exaggerated little girl's voice. "Empress Bella will scare the frightening monsters away. And, at least, there can't be any monsters hidden underneath this futon."

That made Hermione laugh in spite of herself, even if the memories still made her blood run cold. "Tell me about it. If you ask me, the wizarding world could use a bit more psychiatry and psycho-analysis."

She looked up into the confused expression on Bellatrix's face. "Is that a Muggle thing?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "It's the science of the mind. Oh, I bet they'd love to get their hands on you, Bella. They could write entire books about you."

"Well, I _am_ very impressive, after all," Bellatrix smirked. "But I don't care much for the poking and the prodding. I do know what having terrifying nightmares are like. I had them often after my escape from Azkaban. Cissy often fixed me up with a Dreamless Drought. It'll help."

The two women lay back on the futon, Bellatrix staring at the ceiling while Hermione snuggled up against her. "What were your nightmares about?"

"Do you really need to ask?" an uncomfortable expression formed on Bellatrix's features. "Mostly they were about being back in Azkaban. That my escape, my accomplishments and our love is merely an illusion and I am still in that hellhole. I _hate_ every inch of that place, little dove. I want to tear it down until nothing but a pile of rubble remains! If there's one thing I regret about this peace you have crafted, it's that I never got the chance to do just that."

"When did the nightmares stop?" asked Hermione.

"Sometimes I still have them," said Bellatrix. "But now that I know I am strong and that I am the ruler of an empire, they have no power of me."

Hermione nodded. She was almost certain that her own nightmares were caused by her contact with the pure magic rift in the temple. They had started shortly after. It was rather hard to claim that a massively powerful cosmic horror had no power over her. Especially when she was seeing things that weren't supposed to exist.

"Do you want to go back to sleep or do you want to stay awake for a while?" Bellatrix asked.

"Don't know," replied Hermione.

"Well, whatever you do, I'm going to sleep," said Bellatrix. "I've very tired, after all."

"Gee, thanks for the sympathy," Hermione chuckled.

"One has to be realistic, no?" Bellatrix winked at her, prompting the young witch to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Did I mention I love you lately?" Hermione smiled.

"Well, that much is obvious," said Bellatrix. "Who doesn't love me?"

"Snape."

"Snivellus doesn't count," Bellatrix pouted. "Nobody loves him anyway, the simpering git. Let's not talk about _him._ In fact, I might have a silly idea to cheer you up."

"Oh?"

"No, no, no, you'll find out tomorrow morning," said Bellatrix and shifted both herself and Hermione to lie on their sides to spoon the young witch from behind.

"Sleepy," Hermione whispered. She was rather tired, actually. The nightmares she'd been having had been very draining. And with Bellatrix holding her in her loving arms, she felt considerably better.

* * *

**23rd of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

With a stretch and a groan, Hermione let out a yawn while groggily waking up. Still in that hazy state between sleep and the waking world, Hermione lazily kept her eyes shut while enjoying the feeling of the morning sun pouring through the window.

She became aware that she was not being held, nor was she holding someone. This had to be remedied immediately. Carefully, she reached out and found position next to her on the futon to be empty. After letting out a disappointed mew, she slowly raised herself up from the cozy mattress and forced her eyes open. When her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she saw that Bellatrix was indeed gone.

New question. Where had she gone? Bellatrix hadn't exactly been an early riser during this lovely holiday.

Hermione sat up and reached for the nearest kimono. After letting out a yawn, she stood up and stretched. "Bella?" she called out softly, but there was no reply.

It was then that she heard an angry shout and what sounded to be a crash from the kitchen area. She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she rounded about the corner and sauntered into the kitchen area... only to find Bellatrix cursing and screaming at several pans and plates while frantically moving back end forth between the stove and the small table to the side.

Also, most of the kitchen counter happened to be on fire.

It was the latter fact which started Hermione fully awake. The young witch rushed back into the living room, looking frantically for the place she had last seen her wand. After rushing about back and forth for what seemed to be an eternity, she found it sticking out of a shoe and ran back to the kitchen.

"AGUAMENTI!" Hermione shouted and conjured a stream of pure water from the tip of her wand, drenching most of the kitchen and, thankfully, putting out the fire. Bellatrix, for her part, hadn't even noticed as she had kept fussing over whatever she was doing with the stove. When the dark witch finally found her bare feet standing in a puddle, her eyes grew wide and she turned to Hermione.

"I had it under control!" Bellatrix hissed, obviously angry at the interference.

"The kitchen was _on fire!_ " Hermione called back. "I don't consider that remotely 'under control' at all! You _do_ realize that this entire house is made out of wood, right? What were you even doing?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes while holding up a frying pan. "I was..." she hesitated for a moment. "Cooking."

"Cooking?!" Hermione blinked.

"YES!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Proper English Bacon and Eggs! None of that naff raw fish on soggy rice! I thought a couple of simple cooking spells would..."

"Coquere Ova and Carnem Coquatur?" Hermione blinked. "How on Earth did you manage to set the kitchen on fire with those?! They are beginner level cooking spells. Completely idiot-proof!"

Bellatrix snapped around, the expression on her face being one of absolute rage. This was not an understatement; fire burned in her eyes, teeth grounded together and her chest rose and fell rapidly. The dark witch's hands balled in angry fists and, without saying a word, she stormed past Hermione and out of the kitchen. Once, Hermione would have been utterly terrified to see that amount of rage expressed by Bellatrix, but now she oddly found it cute.

"Bella," Hermione sighed and rushed after her. "Wait."

She found her dark lover standing on the deck outside of the living room, overlooking the lake beyond, having crossed her arms and having her back turned to her. "Well," she hissed. "That's the _last_ time I try to do something nice for someone."

Hermione light-hearted mood quickly turned to guilt when she heard the sheer hurt on Bellatrix's voice. For someone as abrasive, strong and self-confident, Bellatrix was surprisingly easy to upset. But then Hermione understood; she was one of the few people whom Bellatrix fully trusted and loved. Hermione's opinion mattered to her... and she had just unwittingly questioned her intelligence and ability. When Hermione stepped back to the kitchen, she flinched when she heard the scornful voice of Bellatrix call out after her. "That's right. Walk away."

After Hermione returned from the kitchen, she had a frying pan in hands. "Well," she smiled sincerely. "Kitchen fire aside, it does smell and look really nice. How about we have breakfast and clean up later?"

The dark witch gave her a wary look, but threw up her hand as Hermione had already put down plates on the kotatsu. After sitting down and actually tasting the food, Hermione came to the conclusion it was quite delicious.

"Proper food," nodded Bellatrix. "Proper English food. None of this foreign heresy."

"It is good," said Hermione. "You've never cooked before in your life, have you?"

"Never had to," Bellatrix adopted a vainglorious smirk. "We've always had house-elves for that, and servants now. During my... stint in Azkaban, the dementors actually cooked. Don't laugh, they had to prepare the food somehow. I can't say the food had much flavor, though."

"What possessed you to try to cook breakfast?" Hermione asked.

"I saw you do it," Bellatrix shrugged. "Didn't look hard. I wanted some proper English food for a change and I woke up early so I might as well. And..." her voice lowered. "I... suppose... I thought... you might like it."

That did make Hermione smile. This woman, an aristocrat among aristocrats, had left her comfort zone which she had no reason for other than to do something nice for her. The young witch almost instinctively leaned over to kiss Bellatrix on the cheek. In response, the dark witch smiled blissfully and lay her head on Hermione's shoulder. Overcome with the sweet smell of her curly hair, Hermione lay her hand on Bellatrix's hip and gently rubbed up and down.

"This is nice," whispered Bellatrix. "No politics, no war, no empires to run. Just you and me."

Indeed, Hermione considered that maybe, just maybe, Bellatrix could have a bit of a romantic soul.

"Remember last year when you told me you had an endless supply of suitors?" Hermione asked. "But you turned them all down."

"Heh," Bellatrix chortled for a moment. "More than I'd care to admit to. Interestingly, most of them were girls. Sometimes students from the Magic Academy of Moscow would try to sweet-talk me. Most of them were star-struck vapid airheads and thus wholly uninteresting. Then there was a time when Countess Natasha of Moldavia bribed one of my guards and did the lying naked in my bed thing. Well, two weeks of lying naked on a prison bed taught her a lesson. I had no shortage of male suitors either, mostly weak layabouts trying to improve their positions. Honestly, I get offers of marriage every week, but one useless husband was enough for one lifetime."

"And out of all those suitors, why did you choose me?" Hermione said.

Bellatrix stared at her, briefly and uncomfortably. "You're the only one who's ever left an impression on me."

An uneasy expression crossed her face. "I choose you because... I love you," she said, and Hermione could tell by the look on her face and the uncomfortable silence that followed that she had startled herself by saying it. Oh, it was clear by her actions and obvious affections that she did, but to hear the words from her own mouth. Hermione thought back to her own struggles with her feelings and realized just how much old prejudice Bellatrix must have wrestled with to overcome to admit to herself that she was in love with her and was worth pursuing. God, one of the most rabid pure-blood supremacists falling for a mudblood... It was one thing to admit that mudbloods weren't worthless, but another thing to admit being in love and wanting to be with one. It made Bellatrix all the more special in her eyes.

She was smiling at her now, red lips curled upwards flanked by dark curls. Their eyes locked and their lips touched for a loving kiss.

And Hermione was keeping secrets from her. Perhaps the most dire and dangerous secret in the world. It wasn't right. Bellatrix deserved to know the truth. Perhaps she would even help. Yes, of course she would. Bella would see the need to help her and Luna fight against the biggest threat the world had ever faced. She _had_ to.

"Bella?" Hermione swallowed hard. There'd be no turning back from this, but she knew it was the right thing to do. "There's something I have to tell you."

Bellatrix arched her back upwards, offering her a curious frown. So, Hermione started her tale. She told Bellatrix about Luna's ulterior motive on bringing her to the Walpurgis Union, about their slow discovery of the Cosmic Horror secretly being the source of all magic and using wizards and witches to break free of Its prison. She mentioned historical evidence, ancient cover-ups, her experiences at the cult lair, her nightmares which included both Bellatrix and Snape being manipulated by the creature as being the cause of their headaches, the existence of the Dead Grimoire in Somerset and almost being killed after witnessing their possible future in the depths of the pit inside the guild temple.

To her credit, Bellatrix sat there quietly and listened without interrupting even though Hermione could see the growing skepticism in her eyes. Once Hermione was done speaking, Bellatrix went quiet. After looking at Hermione intently, she rubbed her chin for a moment.

"Show me."


	26. The Humbling River

**23rd of April 2004 – Podkamennaya Tunguska River, Siberia – Ground Zero**

"I don't understand! It was right here! I swear it!"

This was the desperate cry Hermione let out as she stood at where, once, had been the temple. Standing in the windswept snowbanks of the Tunguska area and suppressing a shiver from the cold despite wearing a thick fur-lined traveling coat, she could only shake her head in disbelief.

They were not alone. Based on what she told Bellatrix about the attack in the temple by the faceless man, Hermione had insisted on bringing along a squad of battle-mages; Bellatrix one-upped it by bringing three war-trolls along to protect the unspeakables poking about the area on the ground. Right now, both the groups of trolls and unspeakables were looking rather bored. Looking up, Hermione could see the wooden hulls of no less than three Walpurgis airships sweeping the area from the skies.

And yet... nothing.

When they came here, there was no temple. In fact, it appeared as if there never had been a temple here ever. All they found was a pile of collapsed rocks near and in the impact crater. There was not a single sign that anyone had ever been here for decades.

How could this be?!

Perhaps they were in the wrong place? Hermione looked around frantically to see any landmarks, but mountain range in the distance looked correct, and the shape of the fallen trees which had lain next to the temple that were still there looked the same, as did the shape of the entire glen. Above all that, she knew of herself that she simply didn't make those kinds of silly mistakes. It was undeniably the right spot.

Bellatrix stood next to her, wearing a long black fur-lined coat with the hood up. She had crossed her arms and seemed to be staring into the distance, deep in thought.

One of the unspeakables approached Bellatrix without looking at Hermione even once. "My lady," spoke the man. "We've done deep scans. There's no sign of any magical residue here besides what is left from the tsunguska experiment in the 1920's. Aside from that, lieutenant Prokov is from a family of builders; he assures us none of the stones here have ever been used for building purposes. There is no evidence there has even been a temple here, nor any sign of the magical event miss Granger described."

Bellatrix listened to the report and gave the man nod. At that point, Hermione had had enough. "CHECK IT AGAIN!" she hissed, grabbing the man by the shoulders. "It... is... HERE! The pit was about fifty meters deep. Scan the ground. DO IT!"

"Hermione..." Bellatrix spoke with a low voice.

"Scan it!" Hermione demanded of the unspeakable. "And do it properly this time!"

"Belay that!" Bellatrix ordered the unspeakable and, with a wave of her hand, dismissed him. Hermione swallowed hard as she looked her lover in the eyes. "Little dove... you've been having a lot of terrible nightmares lately..."

"It was here," Hermione pleaded. "I swear it. I know what I saw! I know what happened to me! I didn't imagine this, I didn't dream this. It is real! We aren't going ANYWHERE until we find it!"

Bellatrix jerked her head to one side, pointing her chin to the camp the unspeakables had set up. It was a silent order for everyone within earshot to give them privacy and it caused Hermione to swallow hard.

Two gently gloved hands lay on her shoulders. "Hermione... Little dove, there's nothing here."

"You don't believe me," Hermione whispered as she closed her eyes. Oh, it stung. It stung so much. Was this what Luna had felt when she had kept rejecting her?

"I believe that _you_ believe that it is true," Bellatrix replied with a surprisingly gentle voice.

"That's the same as not believing me," Hermione shook her head. "You think I'm insane."

"Little dove, I am the last person who has the right to accuse anyone else of being insane," said Bellatrix. "Do you know what I think? I think I've been putting a lot of pressure on you the past months. And you've been seriously overworking yourself to arrange for the peace treaty. I suggest you could use a longer rest than just a week. And don't even think about arguing with me, little dove. I know you've been seeing things that aren't there. I see you staring at corners, at ceilings. I see the terrified expressions on your face!"

Hermione spun around angrily to shoot of a retort. Immediately, however, her eyes were drawn to the distant treeline. There, among the trees, she saw _shadows_. Ugly, distorted things with elongated limbs and twisted gaits. The moment she saw them she knew... _she knew..._ they were here for _her._ Then, in perfect unison, the twisted things raised their heads to stare at her. Baleful white eyes standing out in contrast to the perfect black, boring into her soul. Instinctively, Hermione took a step back, letting out a gasp while staring them down with a terrified expression.

Another step back, and she bumped right into Bellatrix. The startled young witch found herself being spun around. "You've just proven my point!" the dark witch hissed. "Are you still denying you need rest?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the tears stinging in her eyes. "You're... sending me away?"

Feeling completely and utterly defeated, Hermione folded her hands in front of her face and let out a sob. Two arms wrapped around her and she found herself pressed against her dark witch.

"Aw, you're such a vulnerable little thing, aren't you?" Bellatrix kissed the top of her head. "Honestly, you've been listening to Luna a tad too much, hm? She's an excellent spymaster, but she's more than a little loopy. Some of her reports have colorful additions about all manner of nonsensical conspiracies or involvement of a myriad of non-existent creatures. I've allowed her her eccentricities, but I see now that I've given her too much free reign. Did you know that she once claimed that muggles went to the moon? Such utter tripe."

"That's actually true," Hermione whispered.

"Nonsense!" Bellatrix hissed. "See how her lunacy is affecting you? Little dove, I know what it's like when to believe in a truth which does not exist. It becomes a poison for your mind. You convince yourself that you are right and the rest of the world is wrong. The more others try to dissuade you or provide evidence to the contrary, the more you become convinced that everybody is against you and your mind sinks into that mire of madness just a little bit further every time. That happened to me, little dove. I won't allow it to happen to you."

Hermione could only nod. Arguing was pointless. It was over. Bellatrix didn't believe her. And why should she? Hermione had been acting like a raving madwoman while Bellatrix Black, of all people, had been a calm voice of reason. The irony in this unexpected role reversal left a foul taste in her mouth.

"Hah, we are more alike than you'd care to admit, hm?" Bellatrix chuckled. "Though if you ever get the urge to mindlessly follow a powerful wizard with a compelling but ultimately flawed and self-serving vision, let me know. I'll make sure to swoop in and rescue you from yourself."

That, at least, made Hermione laugh. If anything, Bellatrix had gained a lot of self-knowledge. "Bella," Hermione whispered. "I..."

"Shhhhh, I'm not angry with you," Bellatrix spoke softly and raised Hermione's chin so her dark eyes met hers. There was kindness there. Caring. "No more talk about monsters hiding in the dark, men without faces or visions of the future. Hermione, I want you to rest and think of the long and happy life we are going to spend together."

"Bella..." Hermione clutched onto her lady-love and squeezed her eyes shut. Beyond anything else, Hermione could only hope and wish that to be true.

* * *

**23rd of April 2004 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

So, Hermione Granger found herself back at her house in Japan. Alone this time. Hermione felt like she had been placed under house-arrest. Bellatrix has apparently ordered all contact with the palace diplomatic staff to cease effective immediately, under the impression that Hermione needed rest more than anything.

It was quiet without Bella around, far too quiet. The dark witch had told her that she would join her again as soon as possible. It was curious how much Hermione missed her already.

While, in het mind, she quite understood Bella's reaction – she had approached her with a nonsensical story without any form of evidence to back it up, after all – in her heart, she felt that she had been rejected by the woman she loved. God, it stung to think about it. But really? Why should she have believed her? The temple wasn't where Hermione said it would be and she'd been raving and ranting like a madwoman.

Maybe that _was_ the case. Maybe she _was_ losing her mind. Maybe it all had been some sort of imaginative fever-dream. That would make most sense, after all, seeing she had lived under the shadow of war ever since she had become part of the wizarding world. Maybe she really was going insane. For a moment, she actually hoped this was the case.

But no. She couldn't have imagined it all because Luna had been in the building with her before. It had existed. It had been _there_. But that also meant the terrifying things she had seen in the rift could still become reality.

Yes, it would, perhaps, been a better thing for her to have had it been an acute psychosis and imagined it all. This was not the case; the world was still ending. And soon.

Hermione tried her best to remain calm and focused. If the world really was ending, this was no time to fall to pieces. Perhaps she should focus on something small, something she had control over. Her first order of business was to clean up the kitchen. After putting the pots and pans back in their place, she took out her wand and repaired the burned kitchen counter. The next order of business was to get rid of the water still puddling about the kitchen after having put out the fire. Once the kitchen was again clean and battle-ready, Hermione returned to the living room wondering what to do next.

A walk through the forest? Nah, too quiet. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with her thoughts. A nap? Nah, she doubted she could sleep anyway. Reading? She doubted she could concentrate. Still, Hermione wasn't someone who could sit around and do nothing; there had to be something she could do to pass the time.

The young witch didn't like being alone anymore. With the stress she was under, she lacked the distraction she needed to… stop seeing things which weren't there. She could swear that the 'things' she saw while in Japan were even more outlandish and frightening than those she would see while in the West.

Suddenly, she was disturbed by a rather loud buzzing sound. She turned around and saw one of the downsides of living in Japan flying in through the opened sliding doors. A suzumebachi, one of Japan's giant hornets, had come to explore the inside of Hermione's home and started by landing on the table near the irori.

Hermione was in no mood to be stung today, especially not by an insect roughly the size of her thumb. This, also, was the kind of creature she should actually deal with and stood perfectly still while slowly reaching her hand towards an old newspaper lying on a nearby cupboard. She quickly rolled it up and inched forward to get in a good position. Hermione pumped her arm backward in order to strike when the insect suddenly took off and quickly flew out of the door to the outside.

Curiously, though, Hermione could see a tiny scroll lying on the table where the insect had been perched. She carefully picked it up, worried she could accidentally crush it. After taking out her wand and whispering a quick engorgio, the scroll turned to a more readable size. Of course, there was a message written on it.

" _Dear Hermione,_

_I've just had a thoroughly unpleasant conversation with Bellatrix. I am to avoid all contact with you or face dismissal. Naturally, I will not let this deter me._

_I was expecting you to try to explain our predicament to Bellatrix and I don't blame you. By now you must be doubting your own sanity, but you must also understand that this cult is adept at hiding their own tracks. They have, after all, been doing this for hundreds of years. Ever since your infiltration of the temple, all my informants and connections which led me on their trail in the first place have seemingly fallen off the Earth; I will not be able to find the cult again any time soon._

_I assure you, the threat is very real and this changes nothing. Arrangements for our infiltration are still on track. We'll stick to the original plan, but we'll just have to be a bit more careful about it. Bellatrix is free to fire me after we've saved the world. Stay where you are, Hermione and try to get some rest. I will contact you next week when we are ready to go._

_Yours,_

_Luna._

_P.S. Also, if you see any more hornets, please don't kill them! I control them through possession and getting squashed really hurts!"_

Relief washed over Hermione. It was a bit odd to feel relieved at the knowledge that the destruction of the known universe was still on schedule, but at least it meant she was not going completely bonkers. She yelped when the scroll suddenly burst into flame until nothing but ashes wafting through the air remained.

So all that was left to do was to wait. Perhaps this was for the best, really. If there was a way to deal with this monster quietly, all the better. Let Bellatrix and the rest of the world think she had gone through a momentary lapse of sanity due to overwork. It was better than the alternative.

How to pass the time, then? Glancing at a travel brochure after putting down the newspaper gave her a wonderful idea: It'd be nice to go out into the Muggle world again for a bit. Sapporo was the largest city in Hokkaido and she had yet to explore it. Yes, playing tourist sounded good. All she had to do was to jump into the irori and she'd be there.

Yes, Hermione liked this idea. Usually, when traveling she would study the brochures beforehand, pick out the things she wanted to see and then figured out the most efficient walking route from location to location. This time, she wouldn't do that; she'd just start walking in a random direction and explore.

Feeling much better, Hermione was just thinking about what she was going to wear when she heard an odd sound coming from outside. It sounded much someone had kicked a loose pebble against the side of the wall. "Hm? Is someone there?" Hermione called out.

No answer.

Curious. Who could it be? Few people knew about this house, after all. "Bella?" Hermione called out while stepping onto the deck. "Bella, is that you? You can come out now. This isn't funny."

Silence. Eerie silence.

"Oh, god, not more creatures," Hermione sighed in frustration as long shadows without an apparent source floated across the wall. A faceless man which haunted her nightmares flashed briefly before her eyes. Hermione fished her wand from its sheath; holding on to it gave her comfort. Perhaps she was being silly, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She closed her eyes and chanted slowly. "You're not there. You're not making sounds. You're not there. When I open my eyes, you will be gone."

When Hermione opened her eyes, however, she found herself staring right at the mask of a uniformed soldier. Before she had the chance to respond, there was a small explosion to her side which threw her to the ground. Dust and smoke wafted through the house as Hermione attempted to get her bearings. Hermione let out a yelp when she suddenly found herself surrounded by four masked wizards clad in all black fatigues. A curse hit her square in the chest before she could raise to her wand. Instantly, all the muscles in her body relaxed, causing her to topple backwards and splay to the ground like a ragdoll.

"W-who..." Hermione managed to rasp as it was getting harder to breathe.

One of the masked wizards stood over her, looking down. "Target neutralized and secured, sir," sounded a muffled female voice in cockney accent.

"Roger that," spoke another wizard. "Let's bring this traitor home."

Hermione tried to scream when the witch pulled out a black cloth and pulled it over her head. Another spell put her, mercifully, to sleep.

* * *

**24th of April 2004 – Norwich, United Kingdom – Phoenix Alliance Headquarters**

When Hermione came to her senses, she still had the black hood pulled over her head. Regardless, she tried to orientate herself somewhat. It was obvious that she was sitting in a cold metal chair and her hands were bound to the armrests. Judging from the echo of her shoes scraping over the concrete, she was in a small round room. It was definitely damp and cold.

Then, she became acutely aware that someone was in the room with her. Perhaps it had been the person whom had woken her up. "Who are you?" she demanded, frightened by the dried rasp of her own voice. "Where am I?"

The hood was pulled from her head and she hissed when the bright light of the magically enhanced candles stung in her eyes for a moment. When her eyes adjusted to the light she gasped when she saw the other person in the room. Stoic, yet disdainful, glaring down at her with arms crossed was the black-clad Snape.

"Professor..." Hermione whispered.

"A pleasure to see you again, miss 'Morris'," said Snape. Hermione could hear the barely suppressed anger in his voice.

It was now that Hermione realized that she was in a small round prison cell. She wasn't in Azkaban, she could tell from the absence of the sound and smell of the North Sea crashing against the prison, but she was hardly in any better place. It was oddly reminiscent of the way she had been brought into Walpurgis Union for the first time, especially when she saw the tray near the chair. At least Snape wouldn't torture her... or, at least, she _hoped_ he wouldn't.

"I pride myself by being someone who is always well informed and well prepared," said Snape as he paced around the chair, evoking memories of being in his class. Honestly, the methodical way he paced gave Hermione the chills. "This saved my life many times. How many people can claim to lie to the Dark Lord while staring him right in the face? But you, miss Granger, have managed to take me completely by surprise."

"Professor, I..."

"SILENCE!" Snape hissed. Hermione complied while Snape continued pacing. "I am man enough to admit you had me completely flabbergasted. How did you end up in Bellatrix's palace? How on Earth did you manage to convince her to fall for you? Did she seduce you? Did you seduce _her_? What have you been up to the last year? How many Phoenix Alliance secrets did you whisper in her ears at night?"

That made Hermione bristle. "I..." she hissed. "am _not_ a traitor!"

"Indeed?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "That remains to be seen."

He continued pacing, unnerving Hermione even more. "And yet you managed the secure the peace you've been striving for since the start of this war. How very Slytherin of you, miss Granger. To use Bellatrix for your own ends like you have."

"That's a lie!" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Bellatrix and I are in love!"

"Indeed?" Snape shrugged. "None of that matters, really. Not anymore. In all honesty, I shouldn't be surprised you and Bellatrix became lovers, seeing how much alike the two of you are. One could say that Bellatrix is your dark mirror. Both of you were magical prodigies, hailed as bright and intelligent witches. Where Bellatrix was the Dark Lord's right hand, you were Potter's. Both of you are..." he strode to the tray and picked up a wand. _Her_ wand. "... dangerously idealistic."

He held her wand in front of her. "Dragon heartstring. Even your wandcores are the same. No doubt your intentions were noble, but that doesn't change the fact that while our soldiers lay dying in the trenches, you were eating lobster on Buyan island and comfortably sharing Bellatrix's bed."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, refusing to be intimidated or guilt-tripped. "Like I said. Bella and I are in love."

"I know," said Snape. "I heard her say it on the wireless. In her own voice. And that, miss Granger, is why your role in this war is not yet over."

"What war?!" Hermione spat back. "I ended the war. We ended the war! You were there!"

Immediately, Snape was upon her, slamming his hands on the armrests while his face hovered inches away from hers. Flanked by long black hair, there was an angry fire in his eyes which caused Hermione to draw in a gasp. "Don't you understand, fool girl?!" he spat. "This war will never be over until one of either side is utterly annihilated! The Muggles will destroy us all if Bellatrix gets her way!"

A horrible realization came to Hermione, one which almost caused her to vomit. "Oh my god," she whispered. "I'm bait, aren't I? You're going to goad Bellatrix into breaking the treaty."

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of Snape's mouth. "Clever girl," he said. "But I expected nothing else from the brightest witch of her age. You know as well as I what will happen if it becomes known to her that we have you in our possession."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Bellatrix would come for her. And she'd bring an army.

"No," she shook her head. "You can't do this, you madman! We have a peace secured!"

"Sacrifices have to be made!" Snape spat back. "Do you think I enjoy sending dementors to hit civilian targets? Do you think I enjoy sending young people to their deaths? These things have to be done for the greater good. And by the grace of being in our custody, you will be helping to end the war proper."

A horrible realization swept over Hermione; Snape was going to lead Bellatrix right into a trap. Oh, Bellatrix would see right through him, Hermione was sure of it. However, that would mean an even heavier battle would break out. Worst yet, this is exactly what Ouroboros wanted them to do.

"As for you, we'll figure out what to do with you after we've put a stop to Bellatrix's madness once and for all. However, you'd best prepare to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban," said Snape. "Traitors are not loved, miss Granger. Once Bellatrix is dead, her Walpurgis Union will collapse like a house of cards and you will finally have your vaunted peace."

"How can a smart man like you be so naive?" Hermione shook her head. "Bella's people love her. On the off chance that you are ever able to kill her, all you will do is make her a martyr. You think the Union will surrender if she falls? Think again."

"You think too highly of your dark love," Snape nodded. "It is endearing, really."

"You're obsessed. Insane," Hermione hissed. "What would Lily say if she could see you like this?"

Snape's response was swift and merciless. Hermione's head was jerked violently aside by the force of the impact and felt a red welt form on her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she could see an enraged Snape still holding up his hand. "Don't you DARE speak her name!" he hissed.

After calming down, he put down her wand on the tray. "For what it's worth, miss Granger, I will take no pleasure in taking Bellatrix's life. She was a friend once and someone whom I still respect. And I _am_ truly sorry that the person you love most in this world is going to be taken away from you. I know how that feels, perhaps better than anyone."

"For the greater good, right?" Hermione shook her head. She could tell that Snape was dead set on his plan and had only one last ditch effort to try to dissuade him. However, she didn't have much hope as not even Bellatrix had believed her. Hermione didn't get very far in her story about a cosmic horror being the source of magic and attempting to getting wizards to use Its power en masse in an attempt to break free. And how It was likely using both him and Bellatrix to instigate this war. Snape was usually hard to read, but not in this case; with utter incredulity, he held up his hand to silence her.

"Stop, just stop, miss Granger. You must think me the biggest fool in the world if you expect me to believe that nonsense. I'd say you're as much a loon as Lovegood if you believe that drivel. Obviously you are not as intelligent as I gave you credit for," Snape shook his head in disdain and turned towards the door. "Goodbye, miss Granger. It is not likely we will meet again until your trial. Enjoy your accommodation."

As he ordered the door to be opened, Hermione straightened her back. "Professor!" she called after him. "Had many headaches as of late?"

That made Snape stop dead in his tracks. "Crippling headaches?" Hermione tried. "So bad that your entire body gives out?"

Without turning around, Snape responded with a low voice. "Your concern is touching, but I feel fine."

"Bella gets them too," Hermione added, doing her best to look strong and intimidating as Snape slowly turned around. Her former professor stared at her with an unreadable expression, but still Hermione could somehow tell that he was unnerved. A seed of doubt? She could only hope.

The heavy wooden door was thrown shut and the sound of the lock falling shut echoed through the small round room. Finally, Hermione allowed herself to cry softly. At that moment, she felt so completely and utterly alone in this cold cell. "Bella," she whispered softly, knowing full well she would mobilize armies for her sake.

And that was the last thing Hermione wanted.

The door now shut, silence fell over the room. The young witch took a few deep breaths to try to center herself, but, already, she heard... skittering. Almost too afraid to look, she craned her head slowly upwards. And there it was. Some... 'thing'... was hanging from the wall, having come down from the ceiling head-first. Hermione gasped when confronted with the insect-like gait with which this odd shadowy creature moved.

It crawled over the wall, downward until it came to the floor. It was oddly frightening, as usually the creatures she saw didn't came as close to her as this thing did. Hermione yelped when the creature rushed forward with an unnatural forward motion and swiftly lay two of its legs onto the armrests, onto her flesh.

It was cold. So cold. And, even though it was so close to her, it was hard to make out any distinctive features. What she _could_ _,_ however, make out, were a set of six eyes bearing towards her amid the writhing chitinous blackness. Hermione was too terrified to move or even breathe. The creature appeared to be... squinting... as if trying to peer into a darkened room. It seemed to be aware of Hermione's existence on some level, but didn't seem to be certain.

This was bad. The creatures she'd only been seeing were now starting to become aware of her presence. It only brought home that she was in a race against time. And sharing a very tiny room with a rather intimidating creature.

It was far from the best position Hermione Granger had ever been in.

* * *

**24th of April 2004 – Hogwarts, Scotland – Courtyard**

Hogwarts. With a crack, Snape appeared in its courtyard. Honestly, he had never wanted to set foot in this miserable place ever again. This place where he had spent far too many years of his life than he had ever cared to admit. When he had been given... or rather, when he had _demanded_ the position of High Commander of the Phoenix Alliance's armed forces, it had not only been a promotion but the recognition of his talents which he felt he greatly deserved.

Hogwarts might be an utterly miserable place, but it was also a veritable fortress as was proven by the difficulty the dark lord had in taking it. Hogwarts had magical protections upon magical protections, even though a lot of its defenses had not yet been restored since the last invasion because the war had forced the UK to relegate resources elsewhere. Regardless, it would be the best place in the country to force a confrontation with Bellatrix.

By now, the troops he had sent ahead had already entered the school to bring out all the staff and students. The mewing brats stood there now, wondering just what was going on as they were surrounded by battle-mages in the courtyard and on the walls.

"Severus!" sounded from the crowd, instantly causing all the murmuring students to anxiously fall silent.

Minerva, of course.

The old witch was obviously in a state, pushing away two soldiers to approach him. Snape stopped a few feet away from her. Minerva looked much like he remembered her. She had that same look of outrage on her face when confronted during his short tenure as head master.

"Severus, what is the meaning of this?" spoke McGonagall as forcefully as she could. "Why have these hooligans come to our school to disrupt classes and drag everybody out into the cold?"

"Head Master McGonagall," said Snape. "I formally claim the use of Hogwarts as a fortress for our troops as per the Phoenix Alliance's War Measures Act of 1999."

"War Measures?!" McGonagall narrowed her eyes, lip trembling with barely contained anger. "In case you haven't noticed, Severus, the war is mercifully quite over. Even for you, it should have been hard to miss the celebrations in the streets. In no small thanks for miss Granger, we can finally move away from this madness."

Ah, yes, of course Minerva would defend her model student.

"Minerva, this evacuation is a courtesy," said Snape. "We are expecting battle and we want to give the non-combatants a chance to leave. We will not be able to guarantee the safety of your staff and students otherwise."

"Battle?!" Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Again, the war is _over_ , Severus. What sort of battle could you possibly be expecting?"

"That's classified."

As soon as Snape had spoken the words, he almost expected steam to shoot out of Minerva's ears. "Hogwash!"

A hand shot out to lie on Minerva's shoulder. "Minerva," he hissed. " _Leave!"_

Minerva seemed unsettled for a moment, especially when every soldier surrounding them had their wands in hand. Her mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to say something, but seemingly changed her mind. "The Minister of Magic will hear of this."

"I'm sure he will," Snape said. "We will help you relocate the students, but only today. We have preparations to make."

Minerva huffed once and stormed towards the students, no doubt to organize the evacuation. He spent no more time in the courtyard with the mewing children. Instead, he pushed past the soldiers into the main castle and continued his familiar way towards the head master's office. Hogwarts was much like he remembered it, though the layout had changed somewhat. On the way to the office, he passed a few soldiers who were setting up barricades which brought him near his old potion lab. He stopped briefly, glancing inside the room. That old life seemed an eternity ago and it was just that; old. He quickly left the potion lab for what it was and continued on his way towards the tower.

When he entered the head master's office, he flicked his wand which immediately caused white cloths to fall down over the portraits of the previous Head Masters. The last thing he wanted right now was to strike up a conversation with sheets of painted canvas, least of all Dumbledore. He headed over to the heavy wooden desk and took seat behind it, near the endless rows of bookcases.

Well... this certainly brought back memories.

Several reports had already been placed on his desk by his assistant Paige Graves. Paige was a rather plucky young woman with a talent for organization and an impeccable sense of integrity. Like him, she saw Bellatrix for the danger she represented and agreed that she had to be taken out. Paige had been instrumental for the war effort and continued to be; in fact, it was she whom had managed to track down Hermione's vacation home in Japan and organize her extraction.

The reports said that the troops which had defied their orders to return home numbered fifteen thousand strong; far more than Snape was expecting and more than enough to execute his plan for this final confrontation. Thousands would arrive by this evening. The rest would arrive tomorrow.

Hours passed while he coordinated the modifications to the castle in preparation for the coming battle. Hogwarts, in all its sentient glory, was resisting attempts to use her for war and caused some difficulties. Nothing that could be overcome, of course. What was of bigger concern is that most of the destroyed enchanted suits of armor had not been replaced; they were mostly on their own. This was no concern, as more and more loyal soldiers arrived by the minute. When finally he returned to his office when word arrived that Paige had apparated on the scene. The raven-haired woman was already waiting for him there. She smiled when she saw him and held up the Daily Prophet; ' _Snape Gone Rogue, intends to continue war without Alliance support.'_ was the first headline. _'Peacemaker Hermione Granger to be publicly executed by rogue forces. Ministry to issue protest'._

"The press is eating up everything we've been feeding them," Paige grinned.

"As expected," said Snape. "So predictable. They will print any lie as long as it is juicy enough. Miss Granger, though misguided, had noble intentions. The wizengamot will decide her eventual fate, not us. We are not monsters, miss Graves."

"Should I make arrangements to have her transported from HQ to Hogwarts?"

"No," said Snape. "We will transfer miss Granger to our listening post at Land's End and keep her there until this... matter has passed."

"Agent Potter has requested to see you immediately," Paige added. "Apparently, he is quite upset. He used some... colourful terms to describe you, sir."

Snape nodded. "That was to be expected. There was no time to let him in on the ruse and I doubt he would have been receptive in either case. Have him incarcerated when he turns up at HQ again. We will release him when the battle is over."

"Alright. In the meantime, the rumors we've seeded are spreading like wildfire. We expect the news to reach the ears of the Wicked Witch of the East in less than an hour," said Paige.

"Then we must hurry," said Snape. "Have all the arrangements been made?"

"Indeed," said Paige. "All troops present are standing at the ready to perform the mass-charm. They've been trained and informed of the procedure."

And so Snape stepped outside to the balcony to survey his new domain. His troops, loyal men and women from many nations, had gathered outside in the courtyards, on the walls and on the ground outside. As one, they raised their wands to the heavens on Snape's command. The moment Snape whispered the spell he had especially developed for this very battle, all the women and women pointed their wands at him, lending him their collective power. He became the focal point of their magic, channeling it into the single massive charm he was about to unleash.

He felt the sheer power soaring through him, and any lesser wizard would have been overwhelmed. Snape forced his will upon the magic, steering and molding it. Channeling towards his wand, a massive bolt of pure purple shot off into the air and exploded outward above him. An expanding bubble of purple magical energy could be seen briefly before it disappeared, but he already felt it working perfectly.

What he had just cast was a charm encompassing the whole of the island of Great Britain. It would disrupt all outgoing magic; international portkeys would stop working, patroni would be blocked and owls' innate homing abilities would be disrupted. Every communication inside the field itself would work fine, but it meant that the UK was now effectively blocked off from the rest of the wizarding world.

Oh, there would be chaos and confusion, but that was part of the plan. Not a single shred of communication in and out of the Island would be allowed. All this would do would throw oil on the fire and lure Bellatrix her to do battle.

She would come. He knew she would come. For _her._

* * *

**25th of April 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Palace conference room**

Antonin Dolohov had been with Bellatrix since first days after their escape from Hogwarts five years ago. In fact, he had known her since she was twenty years old. Today, he was her trusted general, and one of only two of the old Death Eaters left within Bellatrix's ranks as most of the 'old crew' hadn't been able to adjust to the changed way Bellatrix was running things. As commander of the armed forces, he had seen the birth of the Walpurgis Union and had seen Bellatrix grow into the stalwart leader she was today.

But never had he seen Bellatrix this enraged.

The news had come from Luna while he and Bellatrix were discussing the keeping of small units of soldiers stationed along their borders as an early warning system should the Nixies try something. Luna Lovegood had entered the conference room and told them what happened.

Spells flew through the air as the dark witch vented. Not a single piece of furniture in the room was still in one piece. In fact, both he and Luna had taken cover behind a piece of table. Bellatrix had effectively destroyed a once luxurious war room during her tantrum, leaving it in a state of smoldering ruin. Her hair disheveled, her teeth gritted and her chest heaving, there was a madness in Bellatrix's eyes which reminded Antonin of how Bellatrix used to be seven years ago, when Voldemort had still been alive.

"How dare he?!" Bellatrix shrieked. "She's mine. She's mine. She's mine. SHE'S MINE! I'LL TEAR HIM LIMB FROM USELESS LIMB!"

The dark witch leaned over what was once a proud oaken conference table, placing her hands on the wood while her chest heaved. She was seething, like a bludger waiting to be let loose. Nails dug into the charred wood. He swore he could hear the wood strain in her grip.

Antonin was about to rise when he felt a hand on his wrist. He turned his head and saw the enigmatic Luna staring at him with an unreadable expression. Slowly, very slowly, she shook her head.

Damn, how did this girl always seem know what everybody was thinking, even without magic? Still, he could not heed this warning; Bellatrix had to be calmed. Slowly but surely, he crept towards Bella, hoping to subdue her. Closer and closer he came, casting a spell upon himself to give himself an enhanced vicelike grip. He didn't want to harm Bella or stun her, but she had to see reason.

As soon as he threw his arms around her, Bellatrix let out an enraged shriek and struggled against her hold like a wild animal.

"Bella!" Antonin hissed as he did his best to keep her contained. "Calm down! Calm down! This won't solve anything!"

He only had a second to register that Bella had escaped his grasp before he was flying through the room. Disorientated as he already was, he yelled out in pain when at least three bolts of power hit him square in the chest, propelling him into the wall with a loud crash. He ended up doubled down on the ground groaning in pain with blurred vision. When he came to somewhat, he was started to see that Bellatrix had turned her ire on Luna. With a hand around neck and a wand pressed against her forehead, Bellatrix looked as if she was ready to kill her.

"BELLA!" he shouted at her with his wand drawn. "ENOUGH!"

He was pushing his luck and he knew it; Bella could have easily killed him just now and had chosen not to, but he had no doubt she would actually do it if pushed too far.

The strangest thing happened; Luna did not speak, her neutral expression did not change. The young blonde witch merely stared back at her. This, oddly enough, had a calming effect on Bella.

Utterly baffled, Antonin had always considered Luna to be too nice a girl to be in the line of work she was in; she lacked the ruthlessness usually attributed to spymasters, but she more than made up for that with her keen insight in what made people tick, as was proven yet again today.

"Why..." Bellatrix hissed. "Why didn't you protect her?!"

Luna cocked her head sideways. "You ordered me to give her a wide berth."

The dark witch looked as if she had been slapped in the face. Her wand dropped to the ground as she grabbed her temples and let out another enraged shriek; this was not one of anger, but one of sorrow.

Antonin had gotten to know Hermione well this past year; in fact they had spoken often. Having set their differences aside, he and Hermione had started getting along even. Honest to goodness he had started to actually _like_ the girl and was certainly of opinion that Hermione Granger did not deserve the executioner's axe.

"When?" Bellatrix hissed.

"According to my source, she's to be executed at the end of the week, during the anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts. Undoubtedly meant to be symbolic," replied Luna. "I have not been able to contact the few agents I have left in the UK. Some sort of massive charm is blanketing the country. It's not something we've seen before, but I've got curse-breakers studying it."

Bellatrix whipped around and grabbed Luna by the shoulders, face inches away from hers. "I'm going to get her back!" Bellatrix shouted. "And if even one hair on her head is harmed, I'LL TURN THE UK INTO THE BIGGEST GRAVEYARD THE WIZARDING WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!"

Now it was Antonin's time to speak. "Bella, it's a trap and you know it!" he said. Talking back to Voldemort could be suicide, but Bella had always allowed it. However, judging from her expression she was not exactly happy with him for it. "You know Snape, we both do. He wants you to come for her."

"Of course I realize it's a trap! But what do you expect me to do?!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Sit here and do nothing?!"

"Send me in," spoke Luna. "Along with a small strike-force, I can liberate Hermione and perhaps even smuggle her out of the country. Snape won't be expecting that."

Bellatrix shook her head. "Don't underestimate him. He's as slippery as an eel and has the guile of a fox. Yes, Luna, I will send you in ahead. But Snape won't escape my wrath. This ends one way or another! I'll gather our forces and we'll head straight for the UK!"

"So much for the peace," Antonin muttered under his breath.

"Luna, it'll be your job to liberate Hermione," Bellatrix nodded. "Do no fail. I will flay you alive if you fail!"

"Hermione is my friend," said Luna. "If I fail, I will let you."

"Good," Bellatrix said as she buried her hands in her mass of curly hair. "Now leave me. I need to be alone."

"Bella, I..."

"PISS OFF! BOTH OF YOU!"

He and Luna shared a look before turning around and taking their leave. Just before Antonin closed the door behind him, he could just hear Bellatrix whispering the words 'she's mine' over and over again while letting out a sob. In truth, Antonin felt sorry for her; Bella had been notoriously unlucky in love. To finally find someone who made her feel happy and to have it ripped away from her...

"This is bad," he spoke in a low voice.

"Yes. It is," Luna replied.

"What are we going to do?"

At first, Luna said nothing and started away until she suddenly stopped and turned her head to look over her shoulder, her usual enigmatic smile on her lips. "You heard Bellatrix. We're going to war."

Oddly enough, Luna didn't seem to be even remotely upset about it. Then again, when had Luna Lovegood ever been easy to understand?


	27. From Russia With Love

**26th of April 2004 – WUA Windrider, off the coast of Aberdeen**

Luna had always thought that part of what had made the Walpurgis Union such a force to be reckoned with was their ability to innovate while the rest of the wizarding world preferred to hang on to tradition. The Walpurgis airships were one of these innovations; used as troop carriers and quick transports, the arrival of a Walpurgis airship often brought fear in the hearts of enemies as they saw it approach.

The Windrider, however, was an airship of a different nature. Small, speedy and sleek, it was designed for covert operations and scouting. Her crew was experienced and powerful magics kept the ship hidden from view while she was constantly moving to avoid detection. Luna stood on the deck of the ship as she roved high about the North Sea with the city of Aberdeen just visible in the distance.

"Mistress Lovegood," spoke the first officer as he approached her. "We will reach optimal apparation distance in about five minutes."

"Thank you, sir," Luna replied. Already clad in her infiltration suit, she and her two top agents were almost ready to leave. Ivan was a tall and muscular Russian bruiser who was quick to smile and handled himself in a scrape just as well as he did in a magical duel. Though Ivan didn't look very stealthy considering his bulk, his success record spoke for itself. The second agent, Christina, was a blonde and willowy Romanian woman who mostly worked through disguise and seduction, but her skills at silent magic and infiltration were equally impeccable.

With her team ready to go, there was only one snag left to deal with. But, it was a big one. Three cursebreakers, experts from Durmstrang, were busy analyzing the anti-magic barrier charm now encompassing the entire island of Great Britain. Olle Rincewind, a slender man wearing a multi-coloured robe and glasses too small for his face, was pouring over papers filled with all manner of magical measurements when Luna approached him.

"Mistress Lovegood," he started as he looked up from his work. "I must regretfully inform you that both me and my colleagues are still very much in the dark. We've been taking readings and are trying to emulate its effects under controlled conditions, but we need more time to develop an effective countermeasure."

"In that case," said Luna. "I hope you work well under pressure. Lady Bellatrix is set to launch her invasion force in a day and it will take her at the very least another two days to arrive. Whether we are successful at our mission or not, the attack will take place regardless."

Olle gulped briefly before straightening his back. "We won't let Lady Bellatrix down. We'll coordinate with the Palace and our colleagues still at Durmstrang."

Luna stood in front of the gathered crew as they saluted. "Ladies and gentlemen," she started. "Our mission will be three-fold. One, find miss Granger and exfiltrate with her. This is our number one priority as ordered by the Empress. Two, gather intel about Snape's position, number of troops and battle-plans. Three, find a countermeasure against the charm over the UK so we can communicate freely and our airships can use their mobile portkeys to apparate in troops from Walpurgis territory when the battle begins. Once we have passed the barrier, we cannot communicate with the outside, so remember your orders; if the charm cannot be broken in time, the Windrider will join the Empress' fleet. If the charm is broken and you receive no communication from us, assume capture and join the fleet. If we do communicate our success, pick up our team at the designated extraction point upon which we will carry Hermione Granger back to Walpurgis Union territory without delay. Any questions?"

"None!" Christina replied with her usual enthusiasm. All others remained silent.

"We have reached optimal apparation distance," announced the first officer.

"Right," Luna nodded. "Good luck to us all."

After a last check if all their gear was in order, Luna shared a look with her two compatriots before taking a deep breath and taking a running start towards the side of the airship. Without so much as a word, the three of them flung themselves overboard and, just as gravity took hold, apparated away.

As the political and military center of the Phoenix Alliance, the UK was the best defended country in said Alliance and was secured against infiltration by use of charms, wards and jinxes; any apparation or illegal portkey teleportation was detected and investigated immediately. But, as Luna had figured out, there was a weakness in this network; the magics only took hold up until a certain point off the ground. Granted, it was a rather far point off the ground, but it turned out that this latest magic-blocking charm had the same weakness.

Luna and her fellow infiltrators appeared ten thousand feet in the air above the Scottish countryside for a covert airdrop. She absolutely loved the feeling for the wind blowing through her hair as she plummeted to the ground at terminal velocity. With goggles protecting her eyes from the blasts of wind, she watched in awe as she spun towards the ever approaching countryside underneath her. She folded her arms to her side and dipped her body down. It did give her some time to think about her situation.

Hermione getting herself captured was... a complication. Bellatrix seemed dead-set on demolishing Snape regardless if Hermione was to be recovered or not. Thinking back, all the snippets of prophecy she had seen pointed at this very outcome and it made her wonder about what she had been doing. Was this fate even avoidable at all? Had she herself looked too far into the abyss? There was more to this reality that the five senses could process, and she had been in contact with the other side for so long that it had started to sap at her remaining sanity. One could only look at time in a non-linear sense for so long before going insane.

But it was as if someone had left clues for her to find, a deliberate trail for her to follow through different points in time, jumping from era to era. A reference in a writing from a later time than it should be there, an anachronistic depiction of Ouroboros in a book here; A most intriguing puzzle had been laid out for her and it had become her life. When she'd look at all she had found through a slanted mirror hung from the wall behind her while holding up a book behind her back and balancing on one toe, she could almost understand it.

The tiniest part of her wanted to end it here; to let herself plummet into the ground to the sweet oblivion of death. However, she knew that she couldn't. Not only because she wasn't someone who simply gave up, but also because she knew death wouldn't be an escape. For Ouroboros, causality meant nothing so time did not exist; if It escaped and came to full power, It would have her anyway.

When her mind stopped wandering, she noticed the ground was uncomfortably close. Luna quickly pulled the ripcord, causing two brown oblong pieces of canvas to sprout from her backpack. Instantly, the enchanted pieces of canvas formed the solid shape of batwings and spread out to halt Luna's descend. The young witch let herself soar through the skies, gliding over the Scottish highlands while the magical wings flapped to keep her afloat. Her team flanked her, and together they glided towards the rendezvous point where agent Nightingale would be waiting for them.

As soon as they landed at the appointed spot near an old barn, their wings retracted into their packs and they made their way inside. Though the enchantments on their suit would keep them disillusioned from prying eyes, it still paid to be vigilant.

"Perfect landing," said Ivan as they crept towards the barn. "No sign of trouble."

"Be on your guard anyway," said Luna.

When they were certain nobody would be coming from them, agent Nightingale rippled into existence after removing her invisibility cloak. The raven-haired woman was beyond nervous, looking over her shoulder ever so often and quickly beckoning the three to step inside. When they had, she looked out of the barn one more time and quickly slid the door shut.

"Y-you weren't seen, right?" the woman muttered, the fear in her voice being evident. "Right? N-no. No, of course you weren't. No. You've done this before. No."

Christina and Ivan shared a look while Luna stepped forward. "Parkinson," Luna greeted as her old Slytherin classmate tried to calm herself.

"You?" Pansy Parkinson bit her lip as she jumped at a sudden creak in the wood above her. "I didn't expect you to come here yourself. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Fuck, the entire world has gone to shit! The UK is in utter chaos. The people in the streets demand to know why they are cut off from the rest of the world from a government which has no answers. Snape has officially gone rogue and has gathered a massive army around Hogwarts."

"Have you located Hermione Granger?" asked Luna, while taking note of the information.

"She's being held at the military HQ in Norwich," said Pansy. "I've seen them taking her into the holding area there."

"That could be tricky," said Ivan.

"Not tricky," Christina smirked. "A challenge!"

Pansy ignored them. "Most of the HQ's staff has been transferred to Hogwarts, leaving only a skeleton crew. Buck-tooth the beaver is scheduled to be moved to a more secure location tomorrow."

Indeed, that made sense. Luna suspected that Snape would not actually kill Hermione; he had only needed Bellatrix to believe that to goad her into attacking. This would work in her favor. After all, she had no intention of extracting Hermione... after freeing her, the both of them would look for the Dead Grimoire while she would send the others to scout Hogwarts. As such, Hermione's kidnapping had been quite fortuitous.

"Right," said Ivan. "I say we wait for nightfall, go in quiet, find the girl, get out quietly. Might be a good idea to knock her out to minimize the risk of getting caught."

"Don't worry," said Luna. "Hermione is a war hero. She won't put us at risk."

"I'm coming with you!" Pansy suddenly blurted out. "I... I need to get out of the country, Lovegood! You owe me! I've given you loads of good information over the years. That has to be count for something."

"By given, you mean 'paid for'," said Luna, though the statement had been true. Pansy had been working at HQ as an analyst. Just high enough in the hierarchy to see interesting information and just low enough to go mostly unnoticed.

"I'm coming with you!" Pansy announced with sudden resoluteness. "I... I h-have to. I know the most recent passwords. I... I k-know where Granger is being held. Y-you have to take me with you."

Luna looked at Pansy for a moment, peering deeply into her eyes. Parkinson looked away nervously just before Luna spoke. "Lead the way."

Relief washed over Parkinson as if a great weight had fallen off her shoulders. She quickly turned around to slide open the barn door. It was then that Luna struck. With the speed and grace of a cat, the blonde spymistress rushed forward, pressed the tip of her wand into the side of Pansy's neck and whispered a spell. The raven-haired woman fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"She was going to betray us the moment we'd set foot inside the building," Luna told her dumbstruck agents.

"How do you know she hasn't already?" Ivan asked.

"Because she was the one who wanted to look the hero, you silly oaf," Christina replied. "What are we going to do with her now? We can't leave her here. What is she's found?"

"Christina?" Luna asked. "You still smoke, right?"

And so, with Pansy Parkinson safely transfigured into a pill-bug and secured in a matchbox which had been spello-taped shut, the fearless trio left the barn to continue on with the mission. Granted, it was going to be risky and Luna knew that if she were to be captured she would be a valuable prize. There was no turning back now.

* * *

**26th of April 2003 – Norwich, England – Phoenix Alliance headquarters**

One of the lone guards carried on his patrol of the corridor lazily as he walked back and forth. It was easy to see the boredom and the fatigue etched on his face. With her back pressed against the wall, Luna watched him move by angling a tiny mirror around the corner. When the guard had passed the cul-de-sac where Christina lay lurking in wait, she gave a brief nod to Ivan, who in turn signaled Christina.

The guard let out a brief grunt when Christina jabbed her wand into the side of his neck and whispered her spell. He shuddered violently and sank unto the ground unconscious. He was quickly dragged into the dark cul-de-sac, where his body was propped up against a shelf and quickly covered by a thin invisibility sheet to prevent discovery by another passing guard.

Another flawless silent takedown.

Luna would never have attempted an infiltration of the Nixie HQ under normal circumstances, but Nightingale wasn't kidding when she said it was running with a skeleton crew only. So far, there has been absolutely minimal resistance.

After getting in through one of the side-entrances and disabling the admittedly fierce alarm jinxes, they had made their way into the main office level, avoiding patrols and the larger open areas. Walking hunched and pressed against the wall, the trio of infiltrators moved deeper into the compound. Of course, Luna had had the plans to this building in hands since the start of the war, but had never actually needed to use them until now, ironically _after_ the war.

Luna came to a halt and waved a handsign to the others to stop in their tracks. Apparently, someone was working late at the office. Clutching her wand in one hand, she gave Ivan the signal to take the woman out of the equation. A spell and another invisibility sheet later and the trio was once again on their way. It was important to keep their escape route clear; freeing Hermione from the holding area would be useless if they couldn't get her out of the building, after all.

Finally, they found the entrance to the holding area and carefully snuck inside. The front desk was, oddly enough, not guarded, and led into a series of corridors leading to both the left and right. Keeping to the walls, Luna sent Ivan ahead to scout the left corridor while she and Christina took the right.

The holding area housed both cells and interrogation areas, no doubt meant to question prisoners of war. Luna had expected more patrols, but considering Hermione might be the only prisoner here currently, the Nixies might not have seen the need. It was then that Ivan returned.

"Luna," he whispered. "You've got to see this."

Ivan led them both into the left corridor where two bodies lay prone on the ground in the middle of the corridor. "Odd," Luna whispered while regarding them.

"Stunning spells. Looks like they were hit in the chest," said Christina.

"And then left here in the middle of the corridor," Luna rubbed her chin. "Rather amateurish, wouldn't you agree?"

Christina nodded. "Whoever did this, isn't used to quiet infiltration."

"Hide the bodies in that cell over there," Luna ordered. "Press on, but be careful."

After the guards were hidden, the trio continued on their path checking the cells along the way. Luna suspected that Hermione would be locked up the part of the lock-up where they held political prisoners for questioning. Upon headed towards the wing, Ivan held up his hand to warn his compatriots. Christina and Luna squatted by the corner, listening for what Ivan had spotted.

"Oh, come on, she's got to be in here someone. Don't tell me they've already moved her."

"Ron, just give a moment. I've never been in this part of the HQ."

_Harry! Ron!_ Luna thought, a warm smile immediately taking hold. Of course, they'd come for their friend. She should have known to was them from the start.

"Should we take them out?" whispered Christina.

Luna shook her head and, while Christina tried to stop her, stood up and walked into the corridor towards the two boys. They were bickering, of course, and with their backs turned to her she could approach them quite closely without them even noticing. In fact, she was almost upon them and they _still_ weren't aware. It was then that Luna pulled the mask off her face and spoke a cheerful. "Hello Harry. Hello Ron."

The two boys let out a yelp and twisted around with wands trained on her. "Bloody hell!" Ron shouted out. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Same as you, presumably," said Luna. "How are you, Ron?"

Ron blinked. "That's all you're going to say?"

"Please, please," Harry sighed. "Put your wands down. Both of you. We're obviously all here because we don't want Hermione to be executed. Getting into a fight here won't help."

Ah, Harry Potter. The voice of reason in this case. "I agree. Also, you were being very loud."

"That obvious, hm?" Harry sighed while Ivan and Christina came out of hiding. Ron was not happy about this, keeping his wand trailed between the three of them, his eyes betraying his nerves.

"Luna?" asked Ivan.

"Don't worry," said Luna. "We're all on the same side here."

"Don't bet on it," Ron muttered as the five of them continued on deeper into the holding area.

"How did you get so deep inside the building without attracting attention?" asked Luna.

"I work here, remember?" Harry replied. "Unfortunately, Snape has apparently given orders to have me arrested on sight. The two fine gentlemen on the ground were escorting me to a cell, but..."

"... they didn't count on Ronald Weasley underneath the invisibility cloak following in," Ron grinned, looking ready to pound his chest in pride. Luna wasn't surprised; Ron had been a soldier, after all.

At the end of the his corridor, they found what they had come for; the lone occupied cell. The door quickly fell to their spells, but when the dust settled... all they found was an empty cell and an empty chair with bloodied armrests.

"Hey," Ron blinked. "Where's Hermione?!"

* * *

**26th of April 2003 – Norwich, England – Phoenix Alliance headquarters**

Hermione was making her way through the hallway with aching wrists. The chains had cut deeply into her wrists and because of the blood, she had managed to slip free from her chains. It was not nearly an easy thing to do, and while jerking herself free she had greatly worried about degloving herself. The lock had been of the simple old style unenchanted variety, so it easily fell to a loosened screw using the tricks Luna had showed her on a lark a few months ago.

Honestly, the creature had been sitting in the cell staring at her the whole time, giving Hermione extra incentive to escape. She looked over her shoulder and was relieved to see that it wasn't following her.

Her wrists hurt like all hell, and she should have to get treatment to stave off infection. But that was a later concern. She didn't know where to go; she was filthy, tired, hungry and had no money. She did, however, lucked out finding her wand in storage bin near her cell. So far, she had encountered very little resistance, since Snape had withdrawn most of the personnel. She had to get out of there. Once she was out of the building, she could just apparate away. To where she didn't know yet just... as long as it wasn't _here_.

Having worked in this building in between diplomatic assignments, this was familiar terrain. She knew how to avoid most patrols and the quickest way outside. She turned the corner and the door to the spacious rear-garden was in sight. However, all her hope faded when a dark figure stepped in front of the door.

A burly guard called out to her. "Please," he held up his hands as Hermione came to a stop. "Go back to your cell, miss Granger."

The voice was kindly and, moreover, it was a voice she knew. It was Dirk, the night watchman whom she had chatted with often when she'd working late. He was a kind man, a family man. Perhaps there was hope.

"That looks painful, Hermione," spoke Dirk as he pointed at her wrists. Indeed, blood was dripping to the floor after running down her fingers. "I'll call for a healer."

"Dirk, wait!" Hermione pleaded. "You know what insanity Snape is planning, right? We have peace. It doesn't have to be like this."

"Hermione," Dirk replied. "It's my job to..."

"Please, so many people are going to die. Don't let Snape do this," Hermione pressed.

Dirk closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Hermione..."

"Snape thinks that by killing Bellatrix he'll spell the end of the Walpurgis Union!" Hermione interrupted. "I've lived with these people for a year. I can tell you that that simply isn't true. If Bellatrix dies, she'll become a martyr. Do you really want to see the entirety of Walpurgis Union bearing down on the UK to avenge their fallen Dark Lady?!"

Hermione looked the man in the eye. ' _Please see reason. Please see reason.'_

Dirk put his arms in his side. "Not particularly," he replied.

"Please," said Hermione. "Help me stop it. You know it must be stopped. All you have to do is to let me go."

"Do you think you can?" Dirk asked. "Stop it, I mean?"

"I _know_ I can!" Hermione replied.

Dirk pursed his lips again, his expression one of conflict. "Follow me," he said as what seemed to be an internal struggle, motioning to the door. "There's a first-aid kit in my booth and I'll give you some galleons."

Hermione closed her eyes and felt relief wash over her. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I'm putting a lot of faith in you, Hermione," said Dirk. "Not to mention my family's future. But you ended the war once... I trust you to do it again."

"I will!" Hermione said confidently as Dirk led her to his booth and handed Hermione some supplies and his lunch packet. Afterwards, Dirk led her outside and just as they were about to leave the area of the anti-apparation jinx, Dirk spun around as they heard multiple footsteps coming from the hall.

"Go!" Dirk said. "I'll cook up a story."

Hermione was about to apparate away when the people apparently chasing her came in sight. And thus she chose not to apparate away at all.

* * *

**26th of April 2003 – Norwich, England – Phoenix Alliance headquarters**

To say that their friend was happy to see them was the understatement of the year. After being released, Hermione flew in the arms of first Harry, then Ron, then Luna. The night watchman, a friendly looking burly man, took a few steps back and looked on with interest.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," said Hermione.

"Hey," Harry smiled. "You really didn't think we'd sit idly by while Snape is having you executed, right?"

"Rotter," Ron spat. "Always said he wasn't right in the head. Cowardly, heartless murderer he is."

Hermione stepped forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Snape wasn't going to execute me. He just needed Bellatrix to believe that he would. We have to warn her, Luna!"

"That... might be a problem," Luna said.

"This is a discussion for later," Christina pressed. "We're on the clock and it's only a matter of time before we're discovered."

It was then that Ron stepped forward, wand in hand. "Oh, she's not going anywhere with _you!_ "

Wands again draw, this was starting to look more and more like an impasse which it really wasn't the time and place for. The situation was getting tense as Christina was getting antsy and Ron was looking nervous enough to start slinging spells in random directions.

"And where would you hide her?" Luna asked.

"The Burrow, of course," Ron raised his chin. "Safest place in the UK with the best cooking."

"And..." Harry sighed. "Probably the first place they're going to look for her, considering those two "

It was then that the night watchman weighed in. "Uhm, far from me to interrupt your reunion, but you're wasting precious time. As for you, Hermione, considering agents from both great powers are working together to find you, I'd say my faith in you to nip a new war in the bud is justified."

"Not necessarily," said Luna before turning towards her compatriots. "Ivan, Christina. Head back into the office area and erased evidence of our passing. Alter memories to make it look like Hermione escaped on her own. Plant false memories in the two guards. Make it seem as Hermione was stumbling towards the exit, but make sure not to make it _too_ obvious."

"I think that is my cue to leave," said the night watchman. "I'll take my family and lie low for a while. Considering what Snape is planning to do, I don't have much job security left anyway. Don't worry, they won't find us any time soon."

"Thanks, Dirk," Hermione smiled warmly. "I'm sorry you got caught up in this."

As her two compatriots left and Dirk apparated away to be with his family, Luna turned back to Ron. " _Now_ the Burrow is a more safe place to go to. And I'm coming with you, like it or not. Hermione and I have a certain book to find."

Upon mention of what was obviously the Dead Grimoire, Hermione stiffened for a moment. "I... remember, yes," she said. "Harry, Ron. I'll explain everything once we get out of here. Luna has to come with us."

"What?!" Ron hissed. "You can't be serious! She's a turncoat!"

"Some people would say the same about me," Hermione offered a smile. Indeed, Luna was quite thankful to have a friend like Hermone.

"Fine, fine," said Harry. "Luna? Will you come with us?"

"Oh, this is just barmy!" Ron threw up his arms in defeat. "I want the _old_ Luna back! You know, the Luna who'd read a magazine upside own, stuck her wand behind her ear and wore giant lion-head hats to the Quidditch game. And not this scary, sneaky secret-hoarding spy-Luna!"

In truth, Luna had always liked Ron. He was funny and loyal, someone who could be relied upon. "We all grow up," Luna spoke softly. "And sometimes not in the way we want to."

Luna watched Ron's eyes glaze over for a bit, adopting a distant look. It was the look of someone whom had seen much more than he should have, a feeling Luna quite understood. "Yeah," Ron spoke softly. "I think I get that."

"Let's table this discussion for now and get out of here while we still can," said Harry. "We've got brooms waiting outside, can't risk apparation near the compound."

It was then that Ivan broke in. "Luna. Our mission is to get miss Granger out of the country. We should head to the rendezvous point immediately. Empress' orders."

"Mission parameters have changed!" Luna exclaimed sharply. "Spymistress' prerogative, strictly need-to-know."

Ivan snorted. "That's just a nice way of saying 'shut the fuck up and do what you're told'." And with a laugh, Ivan joined Christina.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Luna and I have a lot to tell you," she spoke with apparent heavy heart. In truth, Luna wasn't entirely happy with Hermione letting the boys in on their discovery, fearing that they would either not believe or, worse, not understand. Then again, they were deep within enemy territory and in need of support. Perhaps it would be worth the risk.

* * *

**26th of April 2004 – Hogwarts, Scotland – Head Master's office**

Preparations were in full effect as Hogwarts were being prepared for the coming invasion. After having had removed most of the furniture from the office to make place for a strategy table. Severus Snape stood over the table which magically projected a real-time miniature image of Hogwarts and its surroundings. He had no doubt that Bellatrix would start her assault from the air, but he had to have all his contingencies covered. The blocking charm over England would give him a significant tactical advantage, but he had to keep in mind that Bellatrix's curse-breakers could find a way to breach it and apparate in fresh troops.

Bellatrix would come in full force. That would mean airships, broom-mounted wizards, battle-hardened battle-magi, war-trolls and perhaps even a nundu or two. Many people on both sides would lose their lives in the coming battle. He had to make sure Bellatrix was one of them.

Most likely, Bellatrix would attack from the south; there were no mountains to block approach from the air and it was the only direction from which to launch a simultaneous ground assault. His special surprise was also being prepared.

He was, annoyingly enough, disturbed from his strategizing when there was a shout from the fireplace. "Snape! Snape! I know you're there."

Nobby Knight, of course. Curious, as he had expected the Minister of Magic to call much earlier. He spun around, crossed him arms and glared into the fireplace. Already, he could see the useless man cringe.

"I am here," Snape spoke calmly. "Get your braying over with."

"Snape, what have you done? I d-demand that you lift the charm immediately; the people are restless, businesses can't import and export their goods, families have been cut off from each other. We've been effectively cut off from the rest of the world! I... I spent a lot of time talking to miss McGonagall and you've occupied Hogwarts with an army? Just what are you doing? And now this talk about e-excuting H-hermione Granger? Are you insane? We don't execute our prisoners! Not even the Wallies do! B-bellatrix is going to tear us to pieces!"

Snape said nothing, he simply glared.

"You are no longer in charge on the Phoenix Alliance military, master Snape. I d-demand that you lift the charm, d-disband your illegally f-formed a-army, r-release Hermione G-granger and vacate Hogwarts at once," he said, his lip trembling about as much as the rest of his pudgy little body.

Snape never stopped staring. "No," was his simple one-word response. Just as Nobby Knight started to sputter, he willed the fire to go out with a wave of his hand. And that was that.

He spent some more minutes pouring over the map when there was a knock on the door. "Enter," Snape announced while he shifted some placements on the map. Paige stepped through the door and scraped her throat.

"Sir," she spoke nervously. "There has been a security breach at HQ. Hermione Granger is gone."

He wished he could be surprised, but he really wasn't. "That was to be expected. We needed our troops here and left HQ too undefended. Do you know who was responsible?"

"Yes," said Paige. "Miss Granger was discovered gone when it was time for the changing of the guards. Witnesses were treated and when questioned they spoke of miss Granger escaping her cell, stealing her wand from the lock-up and escaping the compound. She apparently had inside help from a night watchman called Dirk Jones."

"Miss Granger worked at HQ for years. It's no surprise she managed to escape," said Snape. "Still, with the charm up, there is nothing miss Granger can do. No messages can leave the UK. And even if miss Granger gets a message out, Bellatrix will still come."

"With all due respect, sir," asked Paige. "How can you be so sure of that?"

Ah, Paige was a smart woman, but she lacked experience. "Pride," spoke Snape.

"Pride, sir?"

"Bellatrix is an intensely prideful creature," said Snape. "We took something which belongs to her, right from under her nose. We threatened to execute that something. If anything, Bellatrix despises feeling weak or seeming weak. Even if miss Granger were to return to the Walpurgis Union and stand before her, Bellatrix would _still_ invade. I know her well enough, miss Graves. We'll not waste time or troops attempting to retrieve miss Granger. Whatever she does will be pointless anyway."

"Sir, this will really be a glorious battle," Paige smiled briefly.

"I'm not in this for the glory," Snape narrowed his eyes. "And neither should you. There no glory in this, there is only duty. We do this for the wizarding world. For future generations. The last thing on my mind is glory!"

Paige closed her eyes and lowered her head slightly. "Of course, sir. I apologize, sir."

"Get your priorities straight," said Snape. "Or I will find another second in command."

* * *

**26th of April 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Nesterov Military Airfield, Hangar of the WUV Valkyrie.**

Bellatrix had to be impressed with the speed the Walpurgis Union could react to a crisis and she expected nothing less of her people. Outside on the tarmac and in the other hangars, crew and troops were boarding the armada of forty airships which would make the journey to England, most of them volunteers. An army of twenty-thousand strong was on stand-by, divided between the airships and waiting to make use of the mobile portkeys the airships could drop. Naturally, there was a gamble; curse-breakers were working around the clock to find a way to break the charm Snivellus had lain over the entirety of the UK. If what she was led to believe was true, Snape had created a truly convoluted charm which had her Durmstrang experts puzzled. As much as she hated to admit it, Snape had talent and ability.

Standing in the war-room of the Valkyrie's command deck, Bellatrix was dressed for war. She had exchanged her dress and corset for a long black coat made from spell-resistant dragon-leather, black boots, matching trousered dragon-leather armor and strategically placed dark metal plates covering parts of her chest and limbs. Even though contact with the enemy was still days away, being dressed for war beforehand felt good. Really good, in fact.

The Valkyrie was being prepped for launch; its maiden voyage would be towards the final battle of this war. Her army would leave in an hour.

Antonin and Augustus stood at the ready. Though Antonin, as her first general, would accompany the flight, she would be leaving the reigns of the Walpurgis Union in Augustus' capable hands during her absence. He was here for some last minute arrangements before he would disembark.

"Right," said Augustus as the bearded old man was leafing through his messages. "First of all, Shogun Hanazono offers his deepest apologies for allowing your paramour to be taken by enemy forces on his soil. He offers the use of five battalions of his most experienced spell-swords to support your efforts."

"These troops are valuable enough to bring them onto the airships for the initial assault," said Antonin. "We've already assigned them, but there is a bit of a language barrier to deal with."

"Just point them to the enemy and it will sort itself," Bellatrix smirked. "Augustus, tell the Shogun that I am still angered by his failure to protect Hermione, but that his commitment of troops goes a long way to make up for his mistake. Anything else?"

"Mostly messages from the Phoenix Alliance nations," said Augustus. "It mostly broils down to the same thing; the condemning of Snape's actions and the insistence that he's gone rogue. They're practically begging us to accept that they're not violating the treaty."

Bellatrix let out a satisfied cackle. "Gentlemen," she grinned from ear to ear, curly hair falling over the collar of her leather coat. "They've abandoned him. How cute. Now that Snivellus has gone rogue, he's become a problem for them. Tell them all that I will gladly deal with that problem and I won't take no for an answer! No action will be taken against any nation, provided they don't get in my way! If they do, our response will be swift and merciless. Next message!"

"Bella," Augustus started. "A message from your nephew Draco."

"Draco?" Bellatrix asked. She'd ordered her subordinates to immediately inform her of a message from any member of her family, but it had been so long since an actual message... "I'll read it proper later. For now, give me the gist of it."

"Your nephew was in Italy on business when Snape cast his charm and is now cut off from his family. He asks if we have any knowledge of what's going on," said Augustus.

The poor lad. Her heart bled for him. "Tell Draco we are as much in the dark as he is, but that we're working to eliminate the problem... literally."

"There is a post-scriptum."

"Hm? Let's hear it."

A brief chuckle sounded from Augustus. "Verbatim: Granger? Really?!"

"Hah," Bellatrix snorted. "Add a post-scriptum in my reply. 'Yes, really. Deal with it'. If that was the last of the messages... Did we hear anything from Lovegood?"

"Nothing," said Antonin. "The infiltration should have taken place by now, but there's no way for the crew of the Windrider to determine if she's been successful or not until we either break the charm or enter British airspace. Lovegood has always come through for us in the past, though."

Bellatrix closed her eyes. Truth be told, she was very worried; not for the battle or her inevitable victory, but for Hermione's safety. It would not be a true victory if she were to slay all her enemies, only to find herself standing over the lifeless body of her precious little dove. It made her shudder to think about it; Bellatrix knew of herself that she was a passionate person, often ruled by her emotions. The feelings she had for Hermione Granger were frightening strong. When she had first learned that Hermione had been taken away from her, it had felt like she had lost a limb.

She wanted her back.

She wanted her _BACK_!

Bellatrix missed the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips... that slightly higher octave that slipped into her voice when she did something which annoyed Hermione. Hearing Hermione tell her that she loved her.

Augustus and Antonin were looking at her now, and she doubted that they had needed legilimency to see what she was thinking about. Immediately, she adopted a stern expression; even though she was dying with worry on the inside, this was no time to show weakness. Her people needed to see her at her best and strongest, especially now.

"So," said Antonin. "Miss Granger's treaty wasn't to last. What I'm worried about is that we've reassigned so many of our soldiers that we're leaving entire swaths of our border undefended. We should be worried that the other nations will try something."

"On the contrary," grinned Bellatrix. "The treaty has removed all the distractions. Don't you see? This will be the final, deciding battle. Every single nation is watching this very moment! Snape is forcing a head-on confrontation between us. It was always between me and him, that's how it was supposed to be from the very beginning. After this battle, one empire falls and another will be victorious. I intend that victor to be us! We're going to throw everything we've got at him. We WILL get Hermione _back_!"

There was a knock on the door and the Valkyrie's communications officer stepped inside. "Begging your pardon, Empress, but we are ready for your speech. We've patched into the floo network, the wizarding wireless and the mirror network. You will be heard all over the Union."

"Shouldn't keep the people waiting, then," said Bellatrix as she stood tall and faced the standing mirror. She would appear to her people confident and in full battle-regalia.

" _People of the Walpurgis Empire_ ," she started, her voice firm. " _This is your Empress. Many of you are confused, angry and perhaps frightened. Many of you think the war which has ravaged our world for five years will be reignited. This will not happen, for we are responding to the actions of a single, desperate individual who is clinging at straws_."

Bellatrix took a deep breath and raised her chin imperiously. " _Hermione once told me that the Muggles have 'super-powers'. Nations which, in time of crisis, act swiftly and decisively. In the wizarding world, we have become such a super-power. The only super-power. The Phoenix Alliance nations are weak, frightened and divided. They cannot control their own people, so it falls to us to do what must be done. This is a testament to the power of the Walpurgis Empire and the strength of its people!_ "

She allowed a tiny smirk to cross her features. " _We have been given assurances by the Alliance nations that they will not stand in our way. We are not going to reignite the war. We are going to end it once and for all! Stand strong. Stand Tall. We will bring word of our victory_."

With a wave of her hand, the mirror went dark.

"Rousing as always, Bella," said Augustus.

Bellatrix strolled over to the front windows and looked through the open hangar to the tarmac outside. From here, she could see the Merlin preparing for take-off; it was the first of the airships which was ready for this trip. She had her power, her armies and her people behind her. This was the moment she'd been born for.

"We'll secure our victory and I will return to rule the Walpurgis Union with Hermione by my side," Bellatrix spoke resolutely. "There can be no other outcome."

That said, she turned towards Antonin and Augustus. "TO WAR!" she hissed.


	28. The Sound of Silence

**27th of April 2004 – Devon, England – The Burrow**

Though it felt good to be out of that cell, zipping over the country she had grown up in didn't feel like a homecoming to Hermione. Honestly, she had already made peace with never being able to come back to the UK and had already closed off that chapter of her life, so being here was rather strange. Being a potentially hounded fugitive didn't help much to improve her mood either.

On the broom ride towards the Burrow, Harry and Ron had filled her in what had happened and it had left her reeling. Executed? Snape had spread a lie that she was going to be executed?! Add in that Snape had used a strange charm to effectively cut off the UK from the rest of the world and it was pretty clear how Snape was planning to lure Bellatrix into his trap.

This caused Hermione no shortage of heartache for her Bella. Bellatrix wasn't patient and rational, but a creature of passion and impulse. God, what must she be feeling right now? The uncertainty would likely drive Bellatrix to act before thinking.

The Burrow loomed in the distance and Hermione was happy for it. A hot shower and a soft bed to sleep in were alluring prospects after having been tied to a chair for days. She was tired enough to tumble off her broom at any moment.

Ron was right next to her, though, keeping a close watch. Behind them trailed Luna and her two compatriots. On several occasions, Luna had tried to fly closer to her only to be viciously blocked by Ron who kept the spymaster away from her. Luna took it in stride, thankfully, but there was plenty of tension in the air.

Time to land. Hermione was grateful to have both her feet on the ground after a long flight, having found new understanding why the Pope always felt the need to kiss the tarmac after a trip on an airplane.

Setting foot in the Burrow _did_ feel like a homecoming. Not only had she spent so many summers and Christmases here, it had been her home during those many years she'd been living on the road being diplomat for the Phoenix Alliance. Her legs almost gave way and she staggered to the sofa.

"Hermione!" sounded Arthur Weasley as he rushed up to her. "Are you alright, dear? You look horrible."

Hermione accepted an embrace. "I _feel_ horrible, mister Weasley," Hermione replied groggily.

After Hermione sank to the sofa, Arthur noticed the elephant... or rather, three of them... in the room. He pointed past Harry and Ron to where Luna and her two friends were standing. "Are those... Wallie uniforms?"

"They are," Ron narrowed his eyes. "Wallies in our home. Not happy about that. Not at all."

Arthur crossed his arms. "Son, Harry. The two of you _do_ realize that we're harboring both a fugitive and enemy agents?"

"Is that a problem?" Harry asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No. Hermione will always be welcome in our house. It's just so we're clear. I won't tell if anyone if you won't."

"You'd better not," Ron sighed. "Mum will be cross if we get arrested for treason."

Hermione was close to falling asleep when she saw a twinkle in Arthur's eyes. "Ah, you're Xenophilius' little girl, aren't you? I remember your lovely dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding. You have grown up to become a lovely young lady, haven't you? Honestly, I haven't seen you around much."

"Dad!" Ron hissed. "Luna is Bellatrix's spymaster!"

Arthur blinked. "Good lord..." he gasped, only to grin while stepping forward. "What's that like?!"

"Dad!" Ron threw his hands in the air.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. She didn't know what to find funniest; Arthur's boundless enthusiasm, Ron's exasperation or the fact that Luna looking as if she was about to actually give a Arthur a rather detailed answer to his question. "Mister Weasley?" Hermione interrupted. "May I use the shower before I go to bed?"

"Of course, dear," said Arthur. "You know where the bathroom is."

Hermione felt like a zombie as she stomped up the stairs. After shedding her clothes and stepping into the shower, she was relieved to have the hot water streaming down on her. It soothed her aching muscles from struggling against her bonds and washed the filth right off her body. Hermione supported herself against the wall and dipped her head into the stream, feeling at the same time more awake and more relaxed.

After showering for what felt like a length of time which was probably beyond the range of politeness, she stepped out of the shower. She grabbed the nearest towel and dried her body, after which she found her wand and twirled it through her hair, drying it and making it soft, wavy and fluffy. Having used the Burrow as a home away from home, she had a few sets of clean clothes lying about in one of the cupboards. She picked a pair of jeans, a shirt and a nice jacket and was about to return back to the living room when she found Molly Weasley standing in the corridor. Naturally, she gave the Weasley matriarch a warm smile as she approached her for an embrace.

"Hello, dear," said Molly. Immediately, something felt wrong. The hug lacked enthusiasm on Molly's side and there was a coldness in Molly's voice which was frighteningly reminiscent of the time she had believed Rita Skeeter's lies during the tri-wizard cup so long ago.

"Is... is something wrong?" Hermione asked.

"No, dear," spoke Molly. "Nothing is wrong at all."

Hermione sighed. "Oh, now I know something is wrong. Is it because..."

Molly remained silent for a moment.

"Bellatrix," Hermione nodded. "Of course."

The Weasley Matriarch actually stared down, which was a rather frightening occurrence. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Bellatrix Black served You-Know-Who cheerfully, tortured the Longbottoms into insanity, tortured you, attempted to kill you and Ginny, led a devastating war against us and you _still_ chose to be with her over _my son._ "

Hermione blinked, surprised by the shock apparent in Molly's reaction. There was definitely some hurt family pride involved.

"But..." Hermione stammered.

"You chose _Bellatrix Black_ over _my son!_ " Molly repeated harshly, truly angry this time.

"I... I don't love Ron and he doesn't love me!" Hermione threw back in her face. "I mean, I love Ron, but as a dear friend. I never intended for it to happen, but Bella and I are _in love._ I know it sounds crazy and sometimes I question my own sanity, but... we're more alike than I'd care to admit.".

The skeptical look on Molly's face only made Hermione despair more. "And now I've been taken away from her and am being used as bait to lure Bellatrix out. She thinks I'm going to be executed, she will be worried out of her mind and she's going to war over me! So many people are going to die for my sake and because of that spell over our heads there is _nothing_ I can do to stop it. How do you think that makes me feel?!"

Her body wracked with sobs and tears streaming down her cheeks, all the worries and emotion was let loose. Immediately, Molly's expression softened, her motherly instincts winning over her outrage. "Oh, come here, dearrie," she spoke softly and took the sobbing girl in a warm and tight embrace. "I'm so sorry. This must be so difficult for you."

Grateful for the human warmth, the crying girl held on to her. "Hermione, dear," said Molly. "I've always held out hopes that you and Ron would somehow still end up together. I mean, you're perfect for each other, I think. But... when I heard about you and Bellatrix, well... Tell me honestly, Hermione. Does she treat you well?"

Hermione nodded softly.

"Does she appreciate you?"

"It may be hard to believe," Hermione replied. "But she does. We love each other. We really do."

"I have another important question," smiled Molly. "Does Bellatrix like jumpers?"

The mental image of Bellatrix sitting on her throne while wearing a bright red Weasley sweater with a big yellow 'B' on her chest was too much to handle. Instead of shaking from sobs, her body started to shake with laughter. And judging from Molly's expression, that had been rather the point.

"Again, I'm sorry, dear," said Molly. "I won't pretend I understand, but I shouldn't blame you for falling in love."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled.

"It's a pity the Muggle mail is so slow," said Molly. "Or we might have used it to send a message to Bellatrix. Can the Muggle post even find wizarding addresses, I wonder?"

A gasp escaped from Hermione. "Molly!" Hermione smiled broadly while she grabbed the Weasley Matriarch by the shoulders. "You are brilliant! Utterly, utterly brilliant!"

"I am?" Molly blinked while Hermione ran out of the corridor and almost tripped over herself while running down the stairs. The young witch burst into the living room, startling her friends.

"You have to take me to the library in the nearest Muggle town right now!" she blurted out.

Several sets of eyes blinked at her in confusion. Harry was the first to speak. "Uh... why?"

Hermione smiled broadly as she was about to present her idea. "I thought of a way I can get a message to Bella! This charm blocks all in and out going magic, right? So the only way to bypass it, is to use Muggle communications!"

Ron frowned. "But isn't that horribly slow?"

"No, it isn't!" grinned Hermione. "I thought about contacting dad, but he doesn't have any ties to Buyan palace. But then I remembered my friend Artyom... That's the Palace librarian, by the way. He has a hotmail account!"

Luna, Arthur, Ron and Harry looked at her with mouth agape. Hermione had blurted out the word 'hotmail' as if it was supposed to explain everything. Of course, she was dealing with wizards here. "Oh, shame on you, Harry," Hermione admonished. "I expected you at least to know. It's a form of fast Muggle communication. You can send a message to the other side of the world in an instant. Artyom has Muggle relatives who live on the east coast of Russia and he uses e-mail to stay in touch with them."

"Hotmail, ey?" Ron cocked his head sideways. "The Muggle mail is posted so fast that it's hot from the friction?"

"Look," Hermione sighed in frustration at Ron's 'brilliant' deduction. "Just take me to the library."

* * *

**27th of April 2004 – Ottery St Catchpole, Devon – Public library**

Naturally, the library was closed at this time of night, but that was not a problem for a witch. With a crack, Hermione and her friends apparated right inside the darkened library.

"Lumos," Hermione whispered, keeping her lighted wand low to prevent detection. Getting arrested for breaking and entering wasn't on her to-do list for today, after all.

"Hm," said Luna. "It's rather refreshing not to run into an anti-apparation charm. Security in the wizarding world has increased quite a bit since the start of the war."

"Yeah, I bet," Ron narrowed his eyes.

"Really, there was no reason for you to come along, Ron," said Luna. "I won't let anything happen to Hermione."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ron crossed his arms. "I'm here to protect Hermione from _you,_ so don't do anything silly."

Next to them, Arthur Weasley was rather enthusiastically looking about the room. "Oh, now, this is exciting, now isn't it? Is that one of those 'Putcompers' you were talking about, Hermione?"

"No, that's an electric pencil-sharpener," Hermione whispered, sighing while taking the object from Arthur's hands and putting to down again. Originally, only Luna was to come along but Ron had it in his head that Luna wanted to kidnap her and Arthur was so enthusiastic about learning about e-mail that wild horses couldn't keep him at the Burrow. Hermione would just have to cope.

This was a small township, so the library only had one single computer. Hermione put her wand in her mouth as she groped around in the dark to find the on-switch behind the tower. Once she had, the computer whirred to life and she put down her wand as the familiar sound of the Windows 98 welcoming screen blared through the speakers.

Hermione became acutely aware that three sets of curious eyes belonging to three curious people crowding behind her were also on the screen. Even though Hermione had been doing work for the Phoenix Alliance, she always made it a point to always have one foot set in the Muggle world; this meant she knew how to navigate the internet and was aware of happenings in the Muggle world.

"Look," Arthur pointed out. "Hermione is moving that thing under her hand and it's moving that white arrow!"

"It's called a mouse," Hermione replied while logging in, thankful that the local staff had not set a password. She quickly started internet explorer and put in the url for hotmail.

"Is this like that Muggle television you've told us about?" Ron asked.

"Look at that, Luna," said Arthur. "She's making letters appear on the glass by pushing on the teeth of that square plastic plate. Isn't that amazing?"

To Hermione, it was still surprising just how out of touch the wizards could be with the rest of the world. Even someone like Arthur who was interested in Muggles didn't know about computers and the internet. She reflected that Muggles were moving forward faster than the wizards; if the Walpurgis Union wanted to secure a place among Muggles, they'd have to get with the times too. But first, the Walpurgis Union had to survive.

Hermione logged into her account and found that it was still active despite not having been used for several months. She knew Artyom's address by heart and started typing.

" _Dear Artyom,_

_Yes, this is really me. You've probably been hearing all sorts of rumors about me, but I'm okay. I have a vitally important task for you, my friend. You have to give the message below to Bellatrix immediately. Don't wait, don't hesitate, just bring it to the palace even if it's the middle of the night. Now, I realize Bellatrix might be in a state and might not even believe that this is me sending this message. Just tell her that I remember our vacation in Japan fondly. Tell her that I think her setting the kitchen on fire because she tried to fix me a proper English breakfast is one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me. She'll know it is really me if you tell her this. Please, do this for me._

_Yours,_

_Hermione."_

Hermione started to type out her message for Bellatrix. It was a bit difficult to type out something so personal while three of her friends were watching, but she swallowed her pride and continued.

" _Dearest Bella,_

_By now you've probably heard a slew of lies about me or my fate. It's all faked. I am very much alive and I am looking for the Dead Grimoire with Ron and Harry. Whatever you do, don't rise to the bait. The only reason Snape is doing this is because he's desperate. If you don't rise to the bait, Snape will be removed from power and will no longer be in any position to be a threat to you. All you have to do to achieve your greatest victory is to stay put and do nothing._

_Please, please, don't let anger cloud your judgment. We will see each other again soon. I love you so much and I miss you._

_Love,_

_Hermione."_

Her thoughts drifted to Bella while she dragged her mouse towards the 'send' button. If only this message would reach her in time. "There," Hermione sighed as she sat back. "This will bypass the charm completely. In fact, the mail is already in his inbox. But the downside is that is no way to know when he'll read it. Artyom might not even read it in time. It's the best we got, though."

"Amazing," said Arthur. "The message is already in Russia?"

Hermione nodded with a smile.

"I wish I'd had something like this for communication with my agents," said Luna. "It's even faster than the fastest owl. Hm, I do have agents stationed in the Muggle world. I should talk to Artyom when I get back to the Palace."

"Oh, great!" Ron threw up his hands. "Now you've given her ideas!"

Ignoring Ron, some relief washed over Hermione; of course, she couldn't be sure that Artyom would read the message in time, but it gave her renewed hope. But, there was still something she had to do. "Could... you give me a moment before we return home?"

The others agreed to wait for her outside, leaving Hermione to sit in the darkened library, illuminated by the computer screen. Hermione opened another window and started to type.

" _Dad, mum,"_ she started to type. " _I don't know what you've heard, but I want you to know that I am safe and sound_." Honestly, that statement was ludicrous right now, but she didn't want to worry her parents too much. She'd played this game before; Hermione had been very selective about what to tell her parents during her struggles with Voldemort, after all. " _I just wanted to tell you that I love you. And that it's all going to be alright."_

She paused. There was a very real possibility that she would never see them again. " _Ophelia. I love you very much. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you during your earliest years, but I sincerely hope I will have the chance to be the big sister you deserve."_

Tears dropped on her hands as she typed. Pouring her heart out through e-mail seemed... artificial, cold and distant. But it was the only thing she had right now. " _This isn't goodbye. I will see you all again. Love, Hermione._ "

Her finger hovered over the mouse-button for a moment before she pressed 'send' and Hermione quickly left the library. After sharing a look, the plucky foursome apparated back to the Burrow, though Arthur said he would visit the library again tomorrow to explore the computer a bit more. They found themselves sitting in the living room with Ron looking out of the window, while an old friend had claimed Hermione lap; Crookshanks purred happily while Hermione gently stroked his fur. It was funny how stroking a cat could be so soothing.

"Where's your two cronies?" Ron asked Luna. The tone on his voice was getting increasingly hostile. "And please take off that bloody uniform! Half the bloody country is looking for us and you stand out like a sore thumb."

"If half the country was indeed looking for us, they would have found us here at the Burrow already," smiled Luna. Unfortunately, the smile was only further provoking Ron. "I've sent Christina and Ivan on a mission. They will draw people looking for us away and try to gain some intel on Snape's holdings at Hogwarts."

Ron narrowed his eyes, closing the shades in disgust and paced about the living room erratically. "Spying on our people."

"It's what I do," shrugged Luna.

"Well, don't do it here in my house!" Ron shouted back. "Don't think I didn't see you counting our toothbrushes in the bathroom."

"That was clever, Ron," said Luna. "It's the simple things in a home that give away a lot about the persons living there. It's knowledge that can save one's life under the right circumstances. There were three toothbrushes, which signifies three people living here. The new toothbrush is yours; you moved back in recently. Another interesting thing I saw was a make-up box in the hall near the bathroom; there were wigs and costumes your size nearby. I concluded from that you give shows for children and that you enjoy doing this which I can tell by the way you neatly hang your costumes as opposed to your regular clothes which end up in a pile on the floor. Looking around the house, I see that the wall-plaster in the living room has recently been repaired, indicative of both house-pride and the breadwinner of the house coming into a bit of an unexpected monetary windfall, either from a promotion or winning a raffle. Raffle is more likely since the Daily Prophet on the table is lain open on the table at the raffle page."

"MERLIN!" Ron shouted. "DON'T YOU EVER STOP?!"

Arthur's reaction was quite different, however. "Oh, that was marvelous! What can you see when you look at our garden?" he said, taking the girl by the arm and dragging her towards the window.

"Well…" started Luna, always eager to please. "If I look at the patterns the Rhododendron has been placed, it seems to me that..."

"DAD!" Ron hissed. "DON'T ENCOURAGE THAT LOON! Luna, you might be a spy, but that gives you no right to do that... creepy stuff... here under our roof. I swear, I will toss you out on your arse!"

It was by then that Hermione had had enough. She put down Crookshanks, got up from the sofa and strolled over to Ron. After putting her hand on his shoulder, he spun around to face her. "Ron," Hermione whispered. "A word?"

The two of them found their way into the corridor near the kitchen, where Hermione whispered to Ron. "Ron, you're treating Luna very unfairly. I know this is a difficult time, but she's our friend. She fought with us against Voldemort, remember?"

Ron looked away from a moment, less than convinced. "That was then, this is now. I don't trust her and neither should you."

"Is this because Luna joined the Walpurgis Union? Luna has risked everything to be here to help us," said Hermione. "I joined the Union too, remember? You still trust me."

"That's different," Ron threw up her arms. "You never joined them, not like Luna did. What you did, you did for all of us. You used your time with the enemy to make peace to help us all. Another difference is that you were taken. Luna went there willingly and has supported the regime for years."

Hermione took a deep breath. Of course Hermione understood his distrust, but it wasn't very productive at the moment. "Look, Ron. You trust _me_ , right? You can trust me when I say that you can trust Luna as well. She's sacrificed more than I have to do the right thing. I... we... have something to tell you all."

"What?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "You're dating Luna too now? Does Bellatrix know?"

Hermione blinked. "What?!" she hissed.

"You _are_!" Ron suddenly grinned. "And Bellatrix does know, doesn't he? Oh, wow, that's a twisted threesome. Hot, though."

Hermione's jaw almost fell to the ground before she narrowed her eyes, grabbed the nearest heavy book and smacked him over the head with it. "RONALD!" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I am a one-woman woman!"

"Ow, ow, hey, I was just kidding!" Ron laughed as Hermione started chasing him through the corridor, swinging for him with the book continuously while he was dodging with varying success.

Eyes looked up when Hermione chased him into the living room. Ron was laughing heartily while an increasingly irate Hermione kept hitting him. "I..." SMACK "...LOVE..." SLAM "...BELLA!" SLAP.

"I surrender! I surrender!" Ron laughed as he threw himself on the sofa and hid his head under a pillow. Hermione smacked him with the book a couple of times for good measure before tossing it onto the table.

"Right, now that that's settled," Hermione huffed. "Where is Harry?"

"I do believe he went to bed," said Arthur.

"Would you please wake him?" Hermione asked. "Luna and I have something very serious to share with you."

Immediately, Luna's smile faded and she nodded grimly. Their friends deserved to know the truth, but if her experience with Bellatrix was any indication, it would not be easy to convince them. So, Hermione sat down and started at the beginning. From her kidnapping, through falling in love and right into what she had learned from Luna about the darkness lurking the shadows. About the experiments gone awry, how an elite cadre of wizards dedicated to finding the truth eventually devolved into a doomsday cult, her experiences with said cult, her nightmares, how the creature had manipulated the wizarding world from the start by 'gifting' them their magic, and, finally how Bellatrix and Snape had been brought back from the dead to instigate war.

Her friends were, understandably skeptical at first, but as soon as they understood how serious Hermione was they quieted down and listened. All in all, it went a lot better than it had been with Bella, but that was mostly because Luna were also there to clarify. She had done years of research, after all.

When she came to the end of the story, the mood in the room could best be described as quiet and disturbed. Molly had started hugging Arthur some time during the story, while Hermione's thoughts constantly shifted to Bella. She supposed that's what being in love was about.

"Honestly," said Hermione. "I'm happy that you actually believe us. It took me a lot longer than you to be convinced."

Harry nodded grimly. "Part of me doesn't want to believe it."

"I've not been... totally unaware," said Arthur. "A few years back, this was right after You-Know-Who was finally gone for good, there was an incident with one of the unspeakables. The man ran through the Ministry naked as the day he was born while shouting his head off about 'something waiting in the void', whatever that meant. He was quietly shipped off to St. Mungo's and never seen again. Whatever he had been working on was classified and sealed so deep that not even the Minister of Magic could unseal it. There was all sorts of rumors, of course. All nasty ones."

"Arthur," sounded Molly, her voice full of pathos. "What are we going to do?"

Ron had stood up and leaned against the wall. "Blimey, I thought Voldemort was bad. And now this? The world is going to end? Merlins' saggy nutsack... when does it stop?!"

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly admonished. "Language!"

Though Ron stared at this mother in disbelief, Hermione quite understood her reaction. She was upset and Ron swearing was at least a situation she could handle.

Harry pursed his lips. "So, how close is It to getting free?"

Luna was the one who fielded that question. "There's no way of knowing exactly, but as time has passed, conflicts in the wizarding world has steadily increased, more and stronger magic is being used. That's indicative of the creature getting more and more influence over time."

"But what _is_ It?" asked Arthur. "Where did It come from? Are there more of It?"

"I don't know. I don't know if we can even comprehend the answers to those questions," replied Luna.

"Bloody hell. It never ends, does it? Luna, look… I'm sorry, alright," said Ron. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I should have known you'd never defect without a good reason."

Luna gave him a brief smile and a nod. At least the waters were cleared there.

Molly raised her head, trying to seem optimistic. "Is there anything we can do to stop this?"

"Honestly, I don't know. But we're going to try our best," said Hermione. "According to Luna, we may still prevent this doom."

"The answer lies in the Dead Grimoire," said Luna. "According to Hermione, you've actually seen it in the home of Ozymandius Oliphaunt in Somerset."

"I remember!" Harry snapped his finger. "That crazy old bloke in Somerset. He knew your name, Hermione. I suggest we get going. We'll..."

"Go there first thing in the morning. We've all been up for over a day and the book isn't going anywhere," said Arthur. "Let's go in well-rested and prepared. That forest is dangerous, especially at night. We'll all go together."

It was wonderful to have all her friends not only believe her but committed to helping them find the book and end this creature's stranglehold over the wizarding world. ' _Bella'_ , Hermione closed her eyes. ' _I hope you're safe. I hope you'll get my message in time'._

* * *

**28th of April 2004 – Devon, England – The Burrow, guest room.**

_She'd failed. Oh god, they had failed. The creature was free and Hermione stood with both feet on a world that was being consumed. In the distance, where once had lain Hogwarts, now shone a sickening green light. Chaos incarnate she could not comprehend or even look at directly without getting a splitting headache unfolded in the distance. Alien geometry, impossible colors, time and matter collapsing in on itself while at the same time expanding. And it was coming closer._

_She became aware of her friend standing next to her. "There's nothing we can do but wait till the end," said Luna, her optimism gone, replaced by fear of the inevitability now racing towards them. Could only stare and wait until being swallowed up. "It's growing exponentially and it will continue to grow and grow until the entire universe is consumed."_

" _Luna?" Hermione asked carefully. "Did we ever have a chance?"_

" _No. We were foolish to think otherwise. We were doomed from the start," a wry chuckle sounded from Luna as she realized her own foolishness._

" _There has to be something we can do. This can't be the end of everything!"_

" _If you think this will have a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention."_

" _Bella," Hermione closed her eyes. "Where is Bella?"_

" _Somewhere… in that. It's your turn. Will you take the dagger now?" Luna asked._

_Hermione let a tear roll over their cheek. Rather than being consumed by the void rushing towards them and suffer the incomprehensible change, they had chosen to take their fate in their own hands. The bodies of her friends lay propped up against the side of the Burrow, in the warm grass. They looked almost... peaceful._

" _I will drive the dagger into the base of your skull, like I did for the others," said Luna. "It'll be quick."_

_Honestly, Hermione would give it some seriously thought before shaking her head. "No," said Hermione. "I have to go to her."_

" _If that is your choice," said Luna. "Goodbye Hermione."_

_Hermione closed her eyes and fought back the tears as she heard the gutwrenching sound of a knife slicing through flesh. There was a gurgle from the choking on blood and a splatter on the cobblestones of the path leading into the house. The sound of someone dropping to her knees... more gurgling._

_Luna's death was far from peaceful, having slit her own throat. Hermione didn't want to see it, didn't want to look Luna in the eye as she left this world. The chaos was almost here now and it was hard to see beyond the event horizon. Perhaps that was for the best._

_A few last moments of sanity to enjoy. Blades of grass, the sun on her skin, the rustle of the leaves._

" _Bella," whimpered Hermione as she could almost touch the event horizon. Seconds later, she was being swept away into the miasma and violently twisted into something that was not her, never had been her, nor ever would be her._

_She never saw Bella again._

Drenched in sweat, Hermione sat up in bed screaming as the images of her experience were still in her mind. Her nails dug into the skin of her leg deep enough to draw blood, her body rigid from fear. Immediately, she became aware that she had been taken in a loving embrace; a warm hand ran through her hair while her body was being crushed again someone else.

"Sssh, dear, sssshh, it's alright, dear. Nobody is going to hurt you. You're safe and sound with us," sounded Molly Weasley as she sat on the bed.

"M-m..." Hermione stammered, unable to speak.

"Hermione, dear, you were screaming," whispered Molly. "It was just a dream."

Hermione shook her head. "Not a dream. A nightmare. I've been having increasingly terrible nightmares ever since that night at the temple."

Molly nodded. "I couldn't sleep. Not after what you've told me. I'm not surprised that you are having nightmares with all that's been rattling around in your head."

Hermione wiped the sweat from her brow and reached over for the glass of water standing on her nightstand. After downing the soothingly cool liquid, she put down the glass. "I don't think I'll ever be the same again," Hermione spoke grimly.

"Don't say that," Molly admonished. "That doesn't sound like the girl who gave it her all to stop You-Know-Who with her friends. Against all odds, you succeeded. If you can do it once, you can do it again."

"This isn't a fairy-tale, Molly!" Hermione protested. "In the real world, not all stories have a happy ending."

"Oh, hush," Molly took her in another embrace. "Dearrie, you can't give up. I'll be honest with you; I don't like Bellatrix. I don't like what she stands for and I don't like what she represents. But I know she wouldn't want you to give up."

"She's coming here with an army to find me," whispered Hermione. In a twisted way, it was an expression of deep love; like Agamemnon launching a thousand ships for the sake of Helen of Troy, Bellatrix had launched an armada for her sake. So now Hermione had both the end of the world and an excruciatingly bloody battle to prevent.

Fate, it seemed, wasn't being easy on her.

* * *

**28th of April 2004 – WUA Valkyrie – 5000 feet over the Gulf of Finland.**

Looking outside the windows of her private quarters, Bellatrix looked down upon the sea below. The captain had told her that they had the wind behind their backs and would likely arrive ahead of schedule.

It couldn't be quick enough. The wait would be agony for every single second that it would take. She'd gone over the plan of attack over and over again ad nauseum. She was ready, her people were ready and she hoped Snape would be ready for the pain she would inflict on him.

The room was mostly silent, only the slight hum of the ship as the charms propelled it through the air could be heard and felt. So here she was. Waiting. Alone with her thoughts and reflecting on the strange course her life had taken. Her mind drifted back to the day her parents announced that she had been promised to Rodolphus Lestrange. It was a perfect match, they said. It was a proper pure-blood marriage which was expected of her.

She remembered everybody telling her how incredibly happy she should be.

She wasn't. She and Rodolphus hated each other from the moment they'd met which was only a few days before their wedding. The wedding itself could best be described as a 'dream wedding'. Both families had spared no expense to make it a lavish affair which would be the talk of high society for years to come; mostly she just grinned and bore this entirely forced affair. The less said about the wedding night the better.

She mourned her lost freedom while keeping up the facade for the outside world. She was only seventeen at the time, and it almost broke her. Then came the depression, the sleeping around and the alcohol and potion abuse. Through it all, she was thoroughly unhappy.

Until the dark lord. He was magnificent, a force of nature. He was the one who recognized her talent and nurtured it; he had taught her, encouraged her. Though his favor, she regained her strength, her conviction and her sense of self-worth. As a trusted lieutenant, she rose to the top of the ranks, easily surpassing the useless husband whom had now come to fear her. The wizarding world trembled upon hearing her name!

But it had been a lie. She had declared her love to the dark lord, and he had exploited it mercilessly. She was wise enough to see that now. He had never cared about her, but only how he could use her to his advantage. Like all the others in her life, he had used her and then tossed her aside. He had spurned her on so many occasions, and it truly surprised her just how much that still stung. Still, she never mourned him.

After the death of the dark lord, she had found herself with a surprising amount of focus. Building the Walpurgis Union had become her life to the point of being driven by it, having traded one obsession to another. Truth be told, she felt that she did have something to prove; she'd been playing second fiddle to others for so long that she wanted to show the world that she could outdo those who had deigned to control her. If she said so herself, she had exceeded even her own expectations. She had learned a lot about leadership and had grown through her experiences. As Empress Bellatrix the First of the Walpurgis Union, she felt like she could be truly proud of herself.

And Hermione. Infuriating, wonderful Hermione. The girl whom had come into her life pretty much by accident. Bellatrix had known love, but for the first time had experienced what it was like to have strong feelings of love actually reciprocated. It was such a simple, wonderful thing. To have someone hold her, be concerned for her and whisper words of love in her ears. Add in that the girl was pretty much a foil for her antics, and it was a perfect match.

Ironic too. All her life she had believed in the superiority of blood-purity to the point that it had been imprinted upon her very soul. Never had she expected to find love and happiness in the arms of a mudblood. And now that she had it, she never wanted to lose it. Oh, she was going to get Hermione back… and she would tear apart anyone who'd stand in her way.

Just as she was considering some creative torture techniques for use on Snape, there was a knock on her door.

"Enter," spoke Bellatrix. When she turned to the door, she found herself staring at a familiar face.

"Douglas!" she nodded. "It is good to see you. I heard you had volunteered."

Douglas Wangui made a rather flamboyant impression, wearing a red beret, sunglasses and camo-fatigues while in his mouth was a perpetually smoldering cigar. He grinned as he spoke with an accented voice. "I answer the call of our Dark Lady... or be that Dark Empress these days?"

Bellatrix ran a hand through her curly mane. "I've been trying to lose the 'dark' lady image on Hermione's orders."

"Ah, yes," said Douglas. "I like the girl. Honestly, though, I'm not here for ideology or any person. I am here, how you say, to kick ass as thanks for Agartha. I've been speaking to your Antonin and I've been put in charge of your ground forces while he oversees the battle from the skies. Suits me fine. I do better on the ground anyways."

"We're lucky to have an experienced commander of your caliber on our side," spoke Bellatrix with sincerity. Unlike her former lord, the dark witch actually appreciated competent followers. Douglas was better than most.

"Begging you pardon, Dark Empress, but what is that?" he asked while pointing to the window. Curious, Bellatrix turned around and saw a familiar figure flying next to the airship, some ten meters away.

"A friend is seeing us off," smiled Bellatrix as the dragon from Buyan island spread out his wings and let the wind carry him forward, flapping ever so often to keep up the speed. The dragon turned his head towards the window for a moment before making a sharp turn and headed over to the nearest airship behind the Valkyrie.

"The friendship of a dragon is not easily earned," spoke Douglas. "This is a good sign, Dark Empress. Success is with us."

"Of course it is," grinned Bellatrix as she watched the dragon fly as free as the wind. "We will not fail."


	29. Into the Darkness

**29th of April 2004 – Somerset, UK – Exmoor**

The forest hadn't gotten any less creepy since the last time Hermione had been there in 1997. Though this part of the forest was part of the Exmoor National Park, its natural dark magics kept tourists far at bay. Even though it was the middle of the day, the canopy high above was so thick that it seemed to be perpetually dusk. What didn't help either was that there were nearly no sounds to be heard; no chirping insects, no tweeting bird, no woodpecker in the distance. All there was, was the rustling of the wind through the leaves and the deafening absence of life. If she didn't know any better, she'd think her own heartbeat was louder than any sound coming from her surroundings.

Thankfully, Hermione was not alone. Harry, Ron, Luna and, of course, the perpetually curious Arthur Weasley were taking part in the search. Finding the hovel was easier said than done; the forest was thick, misleading and dark.

"Bugger it," Ron sighed. "We've passed that fallen tree three times already. We're going about in circles."

With her wand out, Luna roved it towards a pass in the distance. "I'm feeling a faint trace of magic in that direction."

"Funny," sounded Harry as he roved his own wand. "I'm feeling a faint trace of magic in the exact opposite direction."

"Well," said Arthur. "You've been here before. Does anything look familiar?"

"Dad," Ron started. "It's a forest. Seen one tree, seen them all."

"More traces from over there," Harry said, frustration apparent on his voice.

Hermione rubbed her chin. "We're being misled," she concluded. "Someone left a hex on this part of the forest. It wasn't there when we first visited, but after finding three teenagers in his house, mister Oliphant might have tightened his security. I say we head east."

"But there isn't any magical trace in that direction," Ron frowned.

Hermione spun on her heels, a broad and undoubtedly smug grin on her face. "Exactly!"

Wizards tended to think like wizards, so someone with an outsiders' perspective like Hermione came in handy. Wizards followed their wands because that's what they always did. The hex protecting the grove was a veritable invisible maze, but as long as they kept following the one direction where there was no magic trace, they were on the right track. After five minutes of walking, they found themselves watching the hovel in the distance. It looked even more ramshackle than it had been so many years ago.

"Right, kids," Arthur whispered as the lot of them took cover behind a fallen tree. "I'm experienced in running raids on magical properties. Let me go in first," he spoke with his wand out.

"Dad," Ron protested. "I was a _soldier."_

"Mister Weasley," Luna frowned. "I'm a spymaster."

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived!" Harry huffed.

Hermione let out a groan and, much to the horror of the others, hopped over the trunk of the tree to start walking towards the hovel with wand in hand. "Oh, honestly," Hermione spoke as she roved the tip of her wand towards the hovel to try to detect any traps. "Check your egos by the door, please."

Finding no traps, they stepped to the front door which fell to Arthur's unlocking spell. With wands drawn, they stepped inside. Almost immediately, Hermione gagged from the horrible putrid smell of rotting flesh. After everyone cast a bubble-head charm on themselves, they continued deeper into the enlarged hovel nervous to see what they would find.

Hermione gasped when she saw Ozymandius Oliphant. The rope still strained as he swung from ceiling beam, a stool laying on its side near his feet. His body was bloated and blackened from rot while maggots still feasted. Hermione looked away; she'd seen death before, but it never got any easier. Those hollow eye-sockets... they brought back memories she'd rather forget. Even empty, there was an accusing quality to their stare.

"He looks to have been dead for at least a month," said Luna, her voice distorted by her bubble-head.

"Right," said Ron. "Can't say I'm surprised. Crazy git."

"The book!" Luna spoke up. "Hermione, where did you see it?"

From memory, Hermione navigated the stacks to where she had seen the Dead Grimoire; on a pedestal in between two stacks. Her heart sank when she found said pedestal empty. "Here," she whispered. "It was here."

"It's not anymore," Harry replied. "He said, stating the obvious."

Meanwhile, Arthur had started to look around the stacks as was getting more and more disturbed. "Good Merlin," he spoke. "Half of these works are banned Dark Arts tomes and the other half are too dangerous to just be lying about. Have a look around, kids, but I have to call this in today. The books need to be confiscated and I need to bring in the DMLE to investigate the death."

Luna seemed more than a little anxious and Hermione couldn't blame her; she had been searching for this book for years and it had been stolen from her when it was within her grasp. "Let's look around. He might have hidden it before hanging himself. If he was as unhinged as you say he was, he likely spirited away the book."

"Or he destroyed it," Harry suggested.

Luna shook her head. "No," she said. "That is the one thing we can be certain of. It has protections upon protections and a magic sentience of its own. It will not allow itself to be destroyed until its purpose is fulfilled."

"Let's look for clues, then," said Hermione, and the group of friends went on their way. Hermione herself focused on the bookcases while Ron and Harry searched around the area where body still swung and Luna went to the sparse living area. During her search, the young witch surreptitiously spirited away a few of the more rare and special books by sliding them into the bottomless satchel she had borrowed from mrs. Weasley. Surely Arthur wouldn't mind her taking a few of the books, she considered. With her lumosed wand out, she searched for anything out of place... but judging from the thick layer of dust and cobwebs, there was not much to find here.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry suddenly called over, causing Hermione to start out of her thoughts. "What's that?"

Hermione spun around. "What's what, Harry?"

"I think saw something glint at your feet, under that table over there," said Harry.

Curious, Hermione bent down and held her wand underneath the little table. Indeed, there was something glinting in the darkness. She reached out and found it to be a round metal object. "It's a... butterbeer bottle-cap with a hole in the middle."

"Right, nothing said," Harry shrugged.

"Actually," started Hermione. "This looks rather new. That begs the question..."

"... what's a new bottle-cap doing in the home of a secluded hermit who had given up on the wizarding world and has been dead for a month?" finished Harry, stepping over to Hermione to take the cap and hold it out in front of him between two fingers.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Someone has been here. And that someone must have taken the book."

At that moment, Arthur, Ron and Luna entered the library. They discussed what they had found and as soon as Hermione presented her with the bottle-cap, Luna closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "Dad," she whispered.

" _Dad?!_ " Ron blinked.

"Yes," said Luna. "Sometimes he wears bottle-caps in his hair... for luck. If he was here and he has taken the book, we need to find him. And I know where to look."

* * *

**29th of April 2004 – Lossiemouth, Scotland – Port area**

Lossiemouth was a pleasant sleepy little fishing village in Scotland. Once, the smell of brine and fish would have wafted through the tiny houses along the cost, but these days Lossiemouth had grown beyond its boundaries and had obviously expanded to attract tourists by building golfing grounds, beach facilities and a marina. There was even an RAF landing strip south of town, bringing in more business.

Hermione and Luna walked the streets on this dreary morning, the area they were in being the older port near the marina. Ship's bells sounded as they rocked in the waves. Having apparated here straight from Somerset into a back-alley, Hermione and Luna made the impression of two young back-packers on their way out walking along the Scottish coast.

"Luna?" Hermione asked.

"While Harry and the others are investigating our home near Ottery St. Catchpole," said Luna. "I want us two to actually be the ones to find my father. Trust me, it's... complicated."

"Is that why you were so insistent that we should split up to cover more ground?" asked Hermione. "Why would your father be here?"

"I was born in this town," said Luna. "My maternal grandfather was Obed Marsh, who had a cottage here. Lossiemouth wasn't as touristy back then, but the cottage still exists. We often used it as a vacation house."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Of course, she had heard the stories. "You are related to Obed Marsh?"

Immediately, Luna seemed to be on the defensive. "Hermione, I assure you that any vicious rumors surrounding him are pure fabrication!"

"Right, right, sorry I mentioned it," Hermione spoke quickly. Luna took the lead and followed the road out of town.

"It's a bit of a walk to the lighthouse," said Luna. Together, walked along the aside of town and passed the sizable golfing grounds. On the way to the lighthouse, Hermione noticed that Luna had gotten a lot quieter, even slightly nervous as the spring left her step. In the distance, the white-washed Covesea Skerries Lighthouse loomed, as it stood on a raised hill with a steep cliffside dropping down to the beach below. The lighthouse itself was rather beautiful, but it was not their destination. In uncomfortable silence, Luna took out her wand and pointed at the stone wall keeping the tourists from falling off the cliff. The stones magically parted, allowing the girls to walk down.

Hermione was about to cry out as it seemed like Luna was about to make a leap of faith by stepping over the edge of the cliff. Immediately, a rectangular shard of rock shot out of the cliffside to become a makeshift foothold. A second step and a second foothold emerged.

"It's quite safe, Hermione," Luna said quietly. Hermione wasn't too sure about that, especially since the footholds did nothing to mask the height. Oh, it wasn't terribly high, but a fall would still certainly end up with her breaking all her limbs.

The footholds led her to a platform. Even from close by, Hermione had to look carefully to see a door and sets of windows hewn right into the rock. It was as if someone had picked up a cottage and had shoved it right into the cliffside some thirty feet off the ground. She could see how someone would love living here, though, as the view was so very nice.

Luna, in the meantime, simply stood in front of the door for a moment, conflict etched on her face.

"Luna?"

"I'm fine," said her friend as she tapped her wand against the door, unlocking it. After they walked inside, Hermione found it to be a very pleasant old cottage. It was well lit and full of the expected knick-knacks indicative of a fisherman's house; big catches mounted on the wall, a net mounted on the ceiling, little anchors and ships in bottles strewn about the place as well as paintings of the sea and framed charts. Her eyes lingered on an old family portrait of Obed Marsh. The man indeed did have the rumored fish-like head with oddly rounded eyes. Hermione had no taste of discussing the nasty rumors of him being involved in a cult worshiping an ancient sea god, considering it was still a bit of a sore point for Luna.

It was then that Luna stopped in her tracks. In the living room, looking out one of the windows with his back turned to them, sat an older blonde man. Xenophilius Lovegood, clad in a colorful robe, simply sat there in silence.

"Hello, dad," spoke Luna.

Xenophilius let out a brief sigh. "Is that all you have to say?" he spoke with a small voice. "After falling off the Earth for four years?"

Hermione noticed the slight wince in Luna's expression.

"Did you know they hauled me off to Norwich after your defection?" Xenophilius said without turning around. "They said terrible things about you. Called both of us traitors. Typical of Ministry types, really. I wasn't able to give them what they wanted, but they certainly couldn't let it slide. The Quibbler lost its publishing license."

Luna closed her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry that happened. I know how much the Quibbler meant to you. To both of us."

"Oh, that never stopped me," said Xenophilius. "The Quibbler went underground. We're the voice of the people now, the only propaganda-free news UK wizards could trust and dedicated to publishing the truth behind this foul war. I carried on the good work you abandoned, Luna."

Hermione was getting increasingly more uncomfortable, getting that nagging feeling that she was intruding into something deeply personal. "If you want me to go outside, I…"

"No, please stay," sounded Luna, oddly sounding like a plea. It made her realize that poor Luna wanted her here for support.

It was then that Xenophilius Lovegood turned around. He was a man who looked older than his actual age, though still his eccentric self. Yellow robes, that same triangular eye-pendant and...

Hermione gasped, as did Luna. In his hands was the book which Hermione had seen in Ozymandius Oliphant's library so long ago. Thick, ancient and leather bound, the Dead Grimoire rested on Xenophilius' lap. Immediately, Hermione felt drawn to it, as if the book was willing her to collect it.

"I see history repeating itself," Xenophilius spoke. "You are your mother's daughter, in more ways than one. Merlin, I wish I never told you the truth. If only I knew how obsessively you would follow the same path she did. I saw the look on your face the moment you laid eyes on this damnable book; that greedy 'want'. I saw that in your mother's eyes when the journals from Durmstrang arrived."

Luna nodded. "Is that why you took it?"

"I tried to destroy it," he hissed. "Fire, magic, nothing worked. I got so desperate that I tried tossing it in the North Sea bound to a stone. When I got back home, it was already lying on the table as if nothing had happened."

"The book cannot be destroyed," Luna said resolutely. "It has protective charms upon protective charms. Its magic gives it an intelligence of its own. It _wants_ to be found."

"Mister Lovegood," Hermione broke in. "Why would you want to destroy it?"

Xenophilius smiled. "The creature you seek. Why not entertain the thought that it is benevolent? It gave us our magic, after all."

"Oh, dad!" Luna shook her head. "Now you're lying to yourself and you know it! Everything I found points to the fact that it's an uncaring being. We are of no importance to It, tools at best and pests at worst, if It even deigns to recognize our very existence at all!"

"Considering my experiences at the temple, I have to agree," Hermione nodded as nasty memories returned. "This thing is beyond us all."

Xenophilius clung to the book tightly and turned his gaze to Hermione. To her shock, his eyes became watery as his hands shook. "Has my Luna told you what would happen if she were to find the book?"

"I was looking for answers and I turned to divination," said Luna. "The method I used was automatic writing. I let the magic itself guide my quill. The ritual was... complex and difficult, but everything I learned from divination has been proven to be accurate. I would find answers while under the wings of the 'Dark Witch in the East'. There was only one person that could refer to."

"Why are you so upset?" Hermione asked Xenophilius.

"My coming into Bellatrix's service wasn't the only thing revealed to me," Luna spoke.

"LUNA FORSAW HER OWN DEATH!" Xenophilius shook with terror and sadness. "It was on the paper, black and while. Less than a day after finding the book, she will die. Has she told you that?!"

In shock, Hermione turned to Luna. "No. She hasn't. But divination is… sketchy and unreliable at best. If..."

"Oh," Luna interrupted. "There was very little room for interpretation. A battle. A forest. A sudden end. Add in that the other aspects of that particular divination have all come true..."

"I understand why you took the book now, mister Lovegood," concluded Hermione. "You thought if you could destroy the book before Luna could find it..."

Xenophilius slammed the book down on the table. "I don't want to lose you like I lost your mother, Luna. This obsession has taken too much from our family!"

"Dad, if the book is destroyed, the consequences…"

"You don't know that!" Xenophilius shot back, only to sink back in his chair to cover his face with both his hands. "A... a father shouldn't outlive his only child..."

"Dad, this is pointless. I…" sounded Luna, but Hermione could tell that her resolve wavered. Her eyes were red and her shoulder slumped as if all the weight of the world had been lain on her shoulders.

"Luna, if this divination has the slightest chance of being true, you should spend some time with your father," said Hermione.

"If there is no time, we have to…"

"Make time!" Hermione ordered. "Trust me, I know what it's like to be separated from a parent for years. I'll take the book to the Burrow and wait for you there. Honestly, Luna, you've already made so many selfless sacrifices for the sake of all us. Take this moment for yourself. You've more than earned it."

Hermione left the cottage with book in hand, giving Luna and her father some much deserved private time together. A last glance through the window revealed that father and daughter were sharing a tearful embrace. Determined not to disturb her friend, she made her way back to the Burrow by apparating away swiftly.

While in transit back to the Burrow, an odd feeling overcame her. When Hermione took the book from Xenophilius, it felt... overwheming to hold it. It was if she was meant to have it, as if it was a part of her body. Once clutched in her arms, she never wanted to let go of it; she needed to get it to safety as quickly as possible. The world just might be saved yet.

* * *

**29th of April 2004 – WUA Valkyrie – Off the coast of Norway**

Antonin Dolohov knocked on the door to Bellatrix's private quarters. The dark witch hadn't been seen all day. A half-hearted 'piss off' sounded from the other side of the door, which was his cue to enter. He found Bellatrix lying stretched on the sofa, apparently deep in contemplation. The first things he noticed was that her bed was still made. The second thing was that the trays with her last evening meal, her breakfast, her lunch and today's evening meal were all still untouched.

"What do you want?" Bellatrix hissed, causing Antonin to shake his head.

"I just came by to tell you that your draconic friend is still with us," he started. "He's been spotted resting on top of the Dauntless' balloon."

A slight smile crept over Bellatrix's features, the first normal emotion he had seen on her face the past two days. It faded just as quickly as it had come. Antonin let out a sigh: enough was enough. "Bella, really, you should eat something and get some rest. We're going into battle. It won't help anyone if their empress they're looking to for leadership is starving and exhausted!"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "It gives me focus."

"Bella, that's a lie and you know it!" Antonin spat back. "Remember what happened in the early eighties? I see history repeating itself here."

Antonin knew he was playing with fire. He'd been Bella's supporter since the start of the Walpurgis Union and had known her for decades. Though she was more stable these days, she still had the potential to become unhinged and fly into an uncontrollable rage. Still, he had to risk it.

After the Dark Lord's first death, she'd been a complete and utter mess. Tireless searching without rest had made her a reckless and dumb, taking too many senseless risks. She went too far with the Longbottoms, made the mistake to throw caution into the wind which led to her capture. Foolish pride made her eager to go to Azkaban… Hah, if only she'd known beforehand. There were disturbing parallels to what was happening to her now.

"I'm not the same person I was then!" Bellatrix snapped. "I am not that pathetic simpering little girl pining for her lost master, crying herself to sleep every night because she didn't know what to do! My mind has never been more clear!"

"No, you're not. Now, you're a pathetic simpering woman pining for her lost love. And don't think I don't see the red eyes," said Antonin. He'd never have spoken to Voldemort in this manner for obvious reasons, but his relationship with Bella was built more on trust than on fear. He hoped that would keep her from killing him.

Bellatrix sat up, her eyes flashing dangerously as unspeakable anger was welling up inside of her. Her teeth gritted, her nostrils flaring. Like the Bellatrix 'of old', her eyes shone with madness.

Antonin lurched forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Bella, we're going to war, the enemy knows we're coming and is holed up in a veritable magical fortress! We have loyal troops who need you to be at your best now more than ever! What do you think will happen to morale if they take a look at their Dark Empress and see her being a complete mess. Because you ARE a complete mess right now!"

Bellatrix's chest heaved as she narrowed her eyes. Her fists balled.

"I know you miss Hermione," said Antonin. "But you need to be at your best or Snape is going to tear you to pieces! And who will rescue her then, hm?"

By now, Bellatrix's anger was too great and needed an immediate outlet. She let out an earpiercing shriek and lashed out; the trays with food were send flying and clattered all over the floor along with its content.

"Mature, Bella," Antonin sighed.

"Really?" Bellatrix's dangerous chuckle caught in her throat. "What are you going to do now, hm?"

"Find something to cheer you up, of course," said Antonin. "I know just the thing and it'll only be a slight detour."


	30. I Hate Every Inch of You

**30th of April 2004 – WUA Valkyrie – North Sea, Azkaban**

Bellatrix stood in the observation lounge of the Valkyrie, gazing upon the grey triangular hell she had spent fourteen miserable years in. The ship swayed slightly as storms raged like they always did above the wizarding prison. Once upon a time, the mere thought of Azkaban could instill terrible fear in her. But she had come to realize that the prison no longer had a hold over her; _she_ was the one with all the power now. The Valkyrie and five other ships had broken off the from the main armada on a special detour for her sake.

She had carefully observed the infiltration of the prison; cut off from the UK as well, the staff had no hopes of intervention from the mainland. The main defenders had been quickly overwhelmed by an invasion of shock troops and most dementors had been repelled.

The dark witch sank her teeth into a succulent apple. Utterly delicious, she ran her tongue along smirking lips as she gleefully waited for her troops to finish evacuating the already invaded prison. The moment she had been dreaming of for decades was finally coming.

"Any word?" Bellatrix asked Antonin, who was standing next to her with eyes fixed on the prison outside.

"Not since you last asked half a minute ago," Antonin smirked.

"Hm, I am excited," replied Bellatrix. "Can you blame me?"

The dark witch let out a brief chuckle. Her enemies were utterly helpless before her might. Just the way she liked it.

A large standing mirror located in the middle of the room glowed bright red for a moment until Douglas, whom had been leading the assault on Azkaban with a sizable team of soldiers, came into being. Puffing on a cigar as usual, the grinning man looked very satisfied with himself. "Ah, my dear Dark Empress," Douglas spoke. "The operation is a great success. Good warm-up for the troops. Props for the Japanese lads. Deadly and ruthless, but not much small talk going on there. Dementors have been mostly chased off, all prisoners have been transferred to the Relentless. Except for one and I was sure to let her know it was on your orders. Hah, she wasn't happy. I left a mirror right out of her cell, as you instructed."

That caused the dark witch to smirk viciously. Dolores Umbridge, that snake; a political opportunist whom had been quick to switch allegiances both when the Dark Lord first rose and when the Dark Lord first fell. She had always wondered how the aurors knew exactly where she and Rodolphus had taken the Longbottoms. Though she had no concrete proof, she was certain that it was Umbridge whom had sold her out for her own political gain. It was sheer irony that Umbridge had been condemned to the same hell she had condemned her to. But unlike her, Umbridge would not leave Azkaban alive.

"Good," said Bellatrix. "Well done, Douglas. Convey my gratitude to your troops."

"Will do, Dark Empress," Douglas saluted. "What are your orders regarding our passengers?"

"Have our prisoners of war returned to Walpurgis territory by portkey for treatment," said Bellatrix. "It is time for them to go home. As for the other prisoners, give them wands and tell them they can earn their freedom if they fight for me against Snape. Make sure to force them to take the unbreakable vow; I do not want our soldiers to be stabbed in the back during the fight."

"Understood," said Douglas. "What about the prison staff?"

"I'm feeling generous today," said Bellatrix. "Give them one of our lifeboats and toss them into the sea. If they're lucky, they might even reach shore alive."

Douglas nodded, saluted and the mirror went dark. There was only one thing left to do. The airships were already in position and Bellatrix stepped closer to the window. She looked upon the grey hell once more while the little mirror in her hand sprung to life; immediately she heard the scratchy voice of Umbridge, raving and ranting as she demanded to be released.

"Bella?" Antonin asked.

The dark witch waved her hand dismissively. "Just savoring the moment."

Bellatrix closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let out an elongated sigh. After opening her eyes, she smiled broadly as she turned to the commander waiting for her order.

"FIRE!" Bellatrix shrieked.

The commander conveyed the order to communications, which in turn conveyed it to all the ships. Within five seconds, the heavens shook when the ships fired their cannons into Azkaban all at once. Magically propelled missiles shredded through the triangular building, sending rocks and dust flying. The cannon-fire was so loud that it drowned out the endless raging storms and lightning strikes always present around Azkaban.

Again and again, the triangular hell-hole was hit at the top, the base and the middle. When the pressure became too much, cracks started to rip through the walls as the tall building groaned in protest as it started to sway and collapse.

The angry demands sounding from the mirror had, by now, transformed into shrieks of terror and denial. The fear on Umbridge's cries were music to Bellatrix's ears. Then, suddenly, the shriek was violently cut off and all that could be heard from the mirror was the sound of rock on rock at Azkaban was in its death throes.

A second barrage followed and before long, the prison came thundering down as it collapsed into a heap of shredded rock to be swallowed up by the waves of the North Sea. When the dust slowly settled, Bellatrix looked on with an elated heart.

Azkaban was no more.

Next to her, Antonin wore the same grin. "Look at that. That's beautiful."

Bellatrix nodded. Like her, he had been a 'guest' to the mercies of Azkaban. It was a wonderful feeling to have this disgusting place wiped from the face of the Earth. If fact, the destruction of Azkaban had been one of her life's goals, now achieved. It gave her renewed hope.

She _would_ end this war. She _would_ kill Snape. And she _definitely would_ find the girl she loved and bring her back home.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see the captain of the Valkyrie walk up to Antonin and whispered in his ear. Antonin gave her a nod and then walked over to Bellatrix. "The rest of the Armada is waiting near the coast of Scotland for us to catch up and the Windrider has rendezvoused with them. Sadly no word yet from Luna, but the charm-breakers believe they have found a solution. They assure us they will get our mobile portkeys to work once they can analyze the charm from inside the field as well."

"Good," said Bellatrix. "It's less than ten hours until we arrive at Hogwarts. They'll be ready for us and we need all the advantage we can get. Let's hope Luna's charm-breakers work well under pressure."

With the apple in hand, Bellatrix started walking towards the exit. "I'll be napping in my quarters. I believe I will have pleasant dreams. And Antonin?"

"Bella?"

"You were right," she grinned. "I _do_ feel a lot better."

* * *

**30th of April 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island, Throneroom**

_Hermione should have known something was wrong when Bellatrix flashed her a wolfish smile when she asked her to accompany her to the throneroom. Naive as she was, Hermione thought that Bellatrix merely wanted to go over the speech she had written for her one last time before addressing the many dignitaries from all over the Union whom had come to Buyan Palace._

_And now, Hermione found herself pressed against the wall with the front of of her trousers opened up and Bella's fingers sliding ever deeper inside of her. The dark witch had cornered her at the last moment, now biting down on the nape of her neck. Her breath quickened over the cruel and merciless strokes as the dark witch pleasured her relentlessly._

_What was worse is that she could actually hear the crowds of people chatting. On the other side of a very thin curtain were heads of state, ambassadors, aristocracy, even members of royalty! If they could see her... if they knew... Hermione felt at the same time extremely embarrassed and oddly excited._

_Her quickened breath started to transform into small cries of pleasure, getting louder beyond her control. Bellatrix quickly placed her hand over her mouth to stem the torrent of sound. God, she wanted it. She wanted it so much that she didn't even care about the dignitaries anymore. She clutched onto the dark witch with her arms and bucked her hips to increase the friction. As pleasure continued to mount, she arched her back as she pressed against the wall and neared climax._

_Her orgasm exploded through her body from her abdomen to the tips of her toes and fingers. Just before she released a massive cry of pleasure, Bellatrix covered her mouth with her, silencing the scream and kissing her like mad. Going weak in the knees, Hermione sank to the ground with her trousers and underwear on her ankles. Sweaty and panting, she opened her eyes as she tried to catch her breath._

_She saw the dark witch standing at the edge of the curtain, giving her a stern look and placing her finger at her lips to give her a quick 'ssssttt'._

" _Oh... fuck... you..." Hermione managed to utter through her panting._

_This made Bellatrix smile broadly and blew her a kiss before disappearing past the curtain. This gave Hermione some time to catch her breath. She sat there for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts as she waited for her legs to start responding again._

_After a few moments, Hermione was starting to return to a semblance of coherence and quickly pulled up her trousers. As she was buttoning up her trousers, however, she caught a few words of Bellatrix's speech._

_Immediately she knew that something was wrong; not only was Bellatrix not reading from the speech Hermione had written, but there was an intense defiance in the words she_ was _speaking._

" _This body is mine!" Bellatrix shouted. "My flesh! My bone! My blood!"_

_A sickening feeling sank to the pit of her stomach as Hermione saw an alien green glow coming from underneath the curtain. Carefully, she approached the curtain, brushed it aside... and screamed._

_Bellatrix was surrounded... the dignitaries had morphed into horrible twisted monstrous humanoids, much like the warped cultists. An undulation of flesh swept through the crowd as tentacles swayed and maws snapped. In the middle of the room was..._ something _... impossible to look upon. At the same time enormously large and infinitesimally small, thousands of eyes and none, maws within maws. And the sounds... the sounds! Hermione's mind couldn't process what she was even seeing, and she swiftly looked away._

" _IT IS MINE!" Bellatrix shouted at the thing. "THIS LIFE IS MINE!"_

_Hermione barely had time to scream in denial when the... thing... arched forward and slammed down onto the lectern where Bella was standing. Her dark lover... did not escape in time, defiantly staring the thing down to the last moment. When the thing moved again, there was nothing left of Bellatrix but a bloody smear spread all over the podium._

_She could only whimper softly as the crowd of monsters descended upon her to tear the flesh off her bones._

"Ah!" Hermione started awake, and it took her a few moments to realize that she was safe and sound at the Burrow. The young witch closed her eyes and lay her head on the back of the sofa, letting out a heavy sigh of relief.

After returning to the Burrow, the first thing Hermione did was to put the book on the table in front of the sofa. The second thing she did was to recall her friends from their search. After doing that, she simply sat on the sofa, staring at the book. Yet, she was pulled to it. It took every fiber of her being to keep herself from rushing towards it and devouring the contents.

But that wouldn't be fair to Luna. She'd been chasing this book for so long, it wouldn't be right just to do this without her. Still, there was the unnatural lure of the book. It was as if it was desperately begging her to read it. Resisting the pull of the book had been so tiring that she had, mercifully, fallen asleep.

The young witch almost shot straight through the ceiling as two hands clapped on her shoulders from behind the sofa.

"Hermione," said Harry, unaware of having startled her. "Are you alright? I heard you... grunting."

Hermione felt her cheeks go red as she remembered the first part of her dream, something which had actually happened a month ago at the palace. "I, uh, just have a lot of my mind."

"I understand," said Harry as he sat down next to her. "You've been just... staring at that book for over an hour. It's more than a little bit creepy. How about we go outside and sit in the yard? The evening's nice and Luna should be back soon."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't." And really, she couldn't. Her gaze was fixed upon the book and even if she wanted to move, she couldn't will her body to do so. Next to her, Harry was rather contemplative as he twiddled his thumbs.

"Something on your mind, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded briefly, clicking his tongue. "I went to see Ginny. I had to. I... didn't tell her what you and Luna told me. I couldn't," said Harry. "Ginny's no fool. She must have realized something was wrong, but..."

Harry fell silent. Then looked at her intently. "We're going to win this," he said, more a statement than a question. "Right?"

Hermione looked back at her friend and simply smiled. "Absolutely," she replied. It was a lie and Hermione knew it; she had no idea what was going to happen or if the book even contained the answers. But she had to tell Harry was he needed to hear.

Harry, for his part, probably knew Hermione was lying, but his grateful smile said enough.

"Oi, Harry," said Ron with his mouth full as he came into the living room carrying a plate with some sausage on it. "Convinced Hermione to come out yet? Mum has sausages frying on the barbecue."

"Honestly, do you ever stop eating?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "You _do_ realize that the world is potentially coming to an end?"

"Yep," smirked Ron. "She's back to her old self again."

Bickering ensued, but Hermione didn't hear a word of it. All her focus returned to the book and her hope that Luna would return soon for she might not be able to control herself much longer. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to. A loud pop coming from the fireplace announced Luna's coming. Her friend seemed somewhat disheveled, her eyes were red, but she seemed like ever the stalwart Luna she knew. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as no one knew exactly what to say to her.

"It's fine," Luna added, her voice cracking a bit. "You don't have to say anything."

Perceptive as ever.

Luna walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Hermione while Ron and Harry bent over the back of the sofa. "Well," Luna spoke softly. "There it is."

"I don't like the hold that book has over me," Hermione said. "Luna? You've been chasing that book for years. I think you should do the honors."

Luna gave her a brief nod and started to reach for the book. Without warning, an arc of magical energy shot forth from the Dead Grimoire and hit Luna square in the chest. She was forced backwards, being thrust against the sofa with enough force to nearly topple it.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you alright? That didn't look very healthy to me."

"I'm fine," Luna coughed. "I don't think it's me the book wants."

"Me?" Hermione asked. Before she even had the chance to think about it, she had given in to the uncontrollable urge to make a grab for the book. It went better than it had for Luna; the ancient book opened and pages seem to turn on their own. Judging from the wildly different handwritings, this book was a journal of sorts, and had been used by countless different people. The scribblings on this page, one of the first entries, caught Hermione's eye and started reading it automatically.

" _This journal is meant for you_ ," Hermione read out in a hushed whisper. " _You who are the one who has been in our darkest dreams. You who are the one whose identity has remained just out of our reach for the longest times, like the wings of a butterfly as it flutters next to one's cheek. You who will either save us or doom us all. You, who are Hermione Granger."_

And there it was, written in ink. Her name.

"You can read that gibberish?" Harry frowned.

"You can't?" Hermione asked. "It's written in plain English."

"That's not any language I recognize," Luna replied. "That you can read it only proves that this book was meant for you and you alone."

With utter fascination, Hermione started to browse through the book, reading out passages for her friends whenever they seemed pertinent. Schematics, research, history, diaries. Collective knowledge of thousands of years of research, each generation of people 'in the know' building upon what was written previously. The text reflected the personalities of those whom had written in it; she encountered passages from people who were very methodical and has a scientific approach, to fanatical rantings of lunatics. Hypotheses were formed, tested and rejected. The future was divined, experiments were undertaken. All pointed to one thing; Ouroboros, in the book named as the 'Dread Progenitor' coming forth to devour the world... and, as the wizards started to suspect the scale was a lot bigger than just the world: the prediction of a universe of Madness.

Her friends became ever more grim, as especially Ron had had enough of doomsday soothsayers and demanded Hermione look for a solution instead. But Hermione wasn't really reading the book; the book was just guiding her through itself. The prophecy of a mad Arabic wizard, Abdul Al-hazared, had a large section devoted to her.

" _She who is born of mud,_

_Will walk the earth when Mundanes take to the skies,_

_Clever and smart, she walks among the Mundanes,_

_Unaware of her gift, unaware of her destiny._

_The Shattered Soul rises,_

_Making war for the sake of his own desires,_

_With Dark Witch and Dark Wizard by his side,_

_Unstoppable if for lack of wisdom._

_She who is born of mud,_

_Misunderstood, an outcast among her own kind,_

_A world of magic opens for her as she comes of age,_

_Yet an outsider she will remain._

_She who is born of mud,_

_Stands with the boy who lived,_

_Against the Shattered Soul's second rise,_

_An academy at war, the Dread Progenitor stirs."_

It was about _her._ Hermione had to admit to being a bit frightened. She had always been skeptical of divination, but this? This was far too specific to deny. Her life was described from her birth to the battle of Hogwarts. Though she took offense to the term 'Born of mud', she realized that wizards of that age weren't exactly enlightened. In fact, this entire poetic prophecy reminded her of the Nostradamus quatrains. The only difference being that Nostradamus was absolute nonsense while this was uncomfortably close to home. She read on.

" _The Shattered Soul falls,_

_And those who should be dead,_

_Rise to life once more,_

_She who is born of mud bears witness._

_The Dark Wizard of the West,_

_And the Dark Witch of the East,_

_War with each other,_

_While madness watches from the dark._

_Two fallen servants become the masters,_

_Of Empires grand,_

_Thousands fall for their sakes,_

_The Dread Progenitor feeds._

_She who is born of mud,_

_Wins her battles with words,_

_Taken against her will,_

_She becomes a prisoner in the East._

_She who is born of mud,_

_Will melt a heart of ice,_

_A Dark Witch is enthralled,_

_The battlefields fall silent._

_The Dark Wizard foul,_

_Sees weakness in the dark witch's heart,_

_He will take what she loves most,_

_And drive her to despair._

_Solstice five after the war at the academy,_

_More blood to be shed,_

_The Dread Progenitor's bonds are broken,_

_The chains must be tied anew._

_She who bravely gazes into the maw of madness,_

_Must become its mortal jailer true._

_A careless thought, a hasty deed,_

_Is dangerous when in dire need._

_Success or doom has equal chance,_

_Of Mercy, the Dread Progenitor has none._

_She who is born of mud will either save._

_Or doom us all."_

"Right," Ron sucked in air through his teeth. "That's not ominous at all. It's frightening just how much that mad Arab got right."

"So," Hermione sat back and let sink in what she had just read. "This is what it's like being the chosen one."

That made Harry laugh. "Don't look at me. I was only supposed to save the wizarding world, not the entire fucking universe."

"I'm sorta worried," Ron bit his lip. "I'm next in line to be the chosen one, if the pattern holds. What's bigger to beat than a cosmic horror?"

"A whole pantheon of cosmic horrors?" Harry said.

"Don't even joke about that, mate," Ron blanched.

The book directed Hermione to a complicated binding spell, based upon thousands of years of research. Though almost all spells had a vocal component consisting on no more than two words, the vocal component of this particular binding spell took up half a page. Next to the words, were diagrams of a series of complicated wand movements.

"This is starting to make sense," Luna rubbed her chin, seemingly deep in thought. "The Dread Progenitor cannot be destroyed, but It _can_ be rebound like It has been to Earth in the past. But in order for It to be rebound, It has to be freed first."

"Isn't that a horribly bad thing?" Harry said. "Why do we want this thing getting out?"

"Because the binding spell won't work without it," said Hermione. "This is all theoretical, but the books explains that when the Dread Progenitor is unleashed, Its full power is unleashed as well. The moment it escapes, we have a brief window of lucidity before madness takes hold. Magic will go haywire, but if focused enough... all that raw power could be used to rebind Ouroboros..."

"How will that work?" Ron asked. "I mean, if it gives us our magic, won't it just make it stop working when it realizes what we're trying to do?"

"Honestly," said Hermione. "We can't be sure it will even work. This has never been tried. Never been tested. It's all theoretical."

"It WILL work!" Luna shook her head. "And yes, Ron, It gives us the power, but It has no control over what we actually do with it. It is a higher being than us, and It can't understand us. Just as we can't understand It. Once It figures out what we're trying to do, it'll already be too late. Think of It as someone observing an anthill. It can study, It can influence the ants to some degree, but It can never understand how the minds of the ants work. Not fully."

"Wait," Harry whispered to Hermione. "Mortal jailer. The book... the book means _you,_ doesn't it?"

That made Hermione fall silent. The book mentioned that this creature had to be bound to a mortal jailer. A person. So far, the entire prophecy of a thousand years was pointing in _her_ direction. She would be binding a godlike unknowable cosmic horror to _herself._

What would the effect be? Would it even be survivable? Sharing a body with that... thing was less than appealing, but what was the alternative?

This was frighteningly real. The person who wrote this prophecy had no idea if this plan would even work. It had been impossible to divine the outcome. The were so many unknowns and if there was one thing Hermione didn't like, it was unknowns.

"I'll do it," Hermione swallowed hard. She was definitely scared, but she knew it was the only thing she could do to stop the end of the world. "But... I can't see how. The prophecy says to look into the face of madness. How on Earth am I going to do that when I couldn't even look into the rift for half a second without losing my mind?! And then, while looking and going insane, keeping enough focus to pull off an extremely complicated spell?!"

"Hermione," said Luna. "It's going to be you who will decide the fate of the world... and maybe the entire universe."

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "Right, no pressure."

"If we rebind it, what will happen to magic and to the wizarding world?" Harry asked.

"Honestly," said Luna. "I don't know. Nothing might happen. Or magic could simply disappear."

"Oh, Circe's tits!" Ron swore. "Can't we get a single break? It could still mean the end of magic even if we save the world?"

"I don't know," said Hermione. "But at least we will all be alive."

Harry nodded grimly. "Right. It'd still be awful, but it's better than the alternative."

Hermione bowed her head low as she thought of the fate some someone else, someone whom had become so precious to her. "What about Bella?" she asked with a small voice, uncertainly being obvious. "What will happen to her?"

Uncomfortable silence followed.

"We just can't know," said Luna. "She's been touched by the creature, but we don't know if It's keeping her alive through magic or if It used some other means to bring her back from the dead. She could die. She could live."

"If I bind the creature to myself, and if she dies... I won't even be able to say goodbye," Hermione sniffed. "I might save the world at the cost of the woman I love."

Ron offered an encouraging smile. "You really got it bad, haven't you?"

Harry smiled and squeezed her shoulder, causing Hermione to return the smile despite her tears. "Whatever happens, we'll be there for you."

"Hogwarts again, huh?" Ron asked. "That place seems to attract disaster."

"That's not a coincidence," replied Luna. "Hogwarts and the surrounding area is a highly magical place and magic has concentrated there for centuries. If the book is correct, that is one of the weakest points of the Dread Progenitor's prison. If heavy fighting starts there, it might blow Its cage wide open."

It was this moment when Hermione slammed her fist on the table. "This is madness!" she hissed. "We can't do this in the chaos of a battlefield. If we want to defeat this monster, we need to do this under strictly controlled conditions. The spell-movements and vocal components are difficult enough as it is and we only have one single chance to get it right! We need to get to Bella before this fight starts."

"Why Bellatrix?" Harry asked.

"Bella will listen to me, Snape will not!" Hermione snapped back.

"And there's our problem," Harry sighed.

"Right, you're the girlfriend. Good point," said Ron. "And if anyone can keep these two from killing each other, it's you. We should leave soon."

"Harry, Ron," said Hermione. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Not a word, Hermione," said Harry. "You always stood by me when we fought against Voldemort. I'm not going to abandon you when you need us most."

"Ditto!" said Ron. "We're in this together!"

Hermione took her friends into a warm embrace and, while the boys were preparing for their flight towards Hogwarts, Hermione started to practice the complicated wand movements. She was surprised to find them fluid and quick to perform, and felt that somehow the magic of the book was guiding her hand. She made the swish-like movements in rapid succession and tried to time her execution as it went quicker and quicker. Likewise, the long vocal component was surprisingly easy to commit to memory. Still, there was a difference between having time to study the spell carefully in a cozy living room and performing the spell in the sight of a cosmic horror while being rapidly driven insane.

Thankfully Luna provided a distraction. She came downstairs carrying two rectangular cardboard packages with a rope tied around them in such a way that they would be easy to carry by owl. She set the packages on the table near the window, while Errol and Pigwidgeon were eager to do their jobs and take off with them. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted the names on the packages. 'Narcissa Malfoy' and 'Andromeda Tonks'.

"What are those, Luna?" Hermione asked.

"Letters," said Luna. "Along with a letter of apology from myself. The delivery of the letters in this package were... delayed for various reasons, but I feel I owe it to Bellatrix to see to their delivery as a final service to her."

"Luna," Hermione stepped closer to her friend and embraced her from behind. "Thank you."

Luna looked over her shoulder rather quizzically. "For what?"

"For being you, Luna," Hermione whispered. "Don't you even think about dying tomorrow."

"I think about my own death often," Luna frowned. "But if my life has led me to this point, I have no regrets."

"Luna, I..." it was then that Hermione spotted something with made her giggle. Luna had put in different earrings. "Are you wearing butterbeer caps?"

"For luck," replied Luna in a dead serious manner.

"Luna," Hermione hugged her friend tighter. "Never change. Never ever change."

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Buyan island**

Artyom had been looking forward to some quiet late-night reading in bed at this lovely apartment in a St. Petersburg wizarding quarter. He had warmed some milk, readied his bed, put down his book and decided to do some checking on his e-mail. He didn't use the internet often as it didn't always work in his magical home and, to be fair, he didn't quite understand it. Artyom hadn't checked his hotmail account for several days by now. He knew his muggle relatives always poked him about keeping up with his writing, so Artyom figured he'd better check quickly before it would slip his mind again.

Following the paper guide his cousin had made for him, he managed to open his browser and found the url of hotmail. He quietly checked his mail after junking the spam; muggles seemed to be obsessed with Nigerian princes and penis enhancement, it seemed. Then, his eyes caught a mail sent by... Hermione? He moved his mouse to see what it could be.

And not five minutes later, he was running through the halls of Buyan Palace still wearing his slippers, pajamas and evening robe while holding on to a print of an e-mail the reading of which had almost given him a heart-attack. The palace librarian ran as fast as his legs could carry him which, admittedly, wasn't very fast at all; he was an old wizard often short of breath with aching joins and had to stop for a brief rest on more than one occasion.

He continued his frantic search for mister Rookwood. Even though it was far past midnight, he found the palace bustling with staff. Not odd, considering an invasion was taking place. An invasion he had to stop!

When he spotted his target standing in one of the corridors after having come out of a war-room, relief washed over him. "Mister Rookwood!" he yelled, almost out of breath. "Mister Rookwood! I must speak with you!"

Augustus Rookwood turned towards him and waved to the guards to let him through. Artyom's body could no longer endure the strain; he fell to his knees and panted heavily. After the guards had helped him to a bench while an assistant was fetching him a glass of water, Augustus Rookwood sat down next to him. "Merlin, man. What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"H-here..." said Artyom as he handed him the print-out. "It's from Hermione! She's safe! The Empress. You have to tell the Empress to call off the attack!"

He watched as Augustus' eyes roved over the paper, and when he lowed the print-out, his face was as white as the sheet of paper he was holding. Rookwood raised a shaking hand to his forehead and slowly slid it down the length of his face. "I've just received word," he whispered. "Bellatrix's armada has entered UK airspace. They're inside the effects of Snape's charm. There's no longer any way to communicate with her."

"Mister Rookwood?" Artyom asked.

"We can't stop the attack," Rookwood muttered grimly. "Likely, it's already begun."


	31. Instruments of Destruction

**May 1st 2004 – WUA Valkyrie – Assaulting Hogwarts**

Hogwarts. For some reason, Hogwarts always seemed to attract conflict and war.

Bellatrix Black had been here once before five years ago at the Dark Lord's side. Now she was here with an army of her own, standing on the war-deck with the control staff of the Valkyrie. There was a full moon out as the night sky was being lit up by thousands upon thousands of spells being cast back and forth. Broombadiers of both sides were in the air doing vicious dogfighting, though her own broombadiers were having their hands full to protect the airships approaching from both sides of the castle. Douglas and his men were on the ground engaging Snape's forces, but Hogwarts remained securely protected by a mass-protego like it had years ago. The difference was that this spell had been cast not by a bunch of frightened children but rather a battle-hardened company of soldiers numbering over ten-thousand strong, Snape's most fanatical supporters.

Still, the cannon-fire was doing its job, smashing holes through the bubble in certain places. One of Hogwarts' towers had already collapsed. They needed only to keep up the pressure. However, this was easier said than done.

Bellatrix clutched firmly onto the mental railing as the entire ship shook violently. Alerts ceaselessly blared while she heard the shouts of the crew. Another damage control team was on its way to the lower deck to put out the fires. Or rather, _more_ of the fires. The Valkyrie was dying around her.

"Bella!" shouted Antonin over the rumbling sounds of metal buckling under crippling weight. "We've lost the Majestic and the captain of the Cockatice has given the order to abandon ship! The Valkyrie is holding together for now, but we've been targeted by enemy broombadiers," he smirked slightly. "They correctly figured out you are on board the biggest and most modern ship we've brought. Who knew, right?"

"Empress," sounded the captain as she stood at attention. "Respectfully, we are taking too much damage to stay in the air for much longer. I suggest we fall back and..."

"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" an enraged Bellatrix shrieked in her face. "You will press the attack! If you don't, I will have you thrown over the side and find another captain who will!"

"Bella, we can't hold out without reinforcements," Antonin said. "Fortunately, the Windrider has sent word that the charm-breakers have tested a method to portkey in our people through the charm. Our mobile portkeys are being attuned as we speak."

"Keep up the pressure, and launch them as soon as they're ready. " Bellatrix hissed before grinning cruelly. "Ah, Snivellus. Do I have such a nasty surprise in store for you!"

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – Hogwarts – Head Master's tower**

So predictable.

Thus far, Bellatrix had done almost exactly what he had expected her to do to the letter. A two pronged attack from both the southern and western side of the castle, accompanied with a half-hearted ground assault which was being countered by his own forces. So far, the only thing giving them trouble were the squads of broombadiers Bellatrix had brought. The reports coming in from Hogsmeade weren't favorable. But, then again, Hogsmeade had never been meant to be more than a delaying tactic.

Slowly but surely, they were picking off the Walpurgis Union's vaunted airships one by one. Bellatrix had brought forty. Six were now smoldering ruins on the ground and at least ten were heavily damaged.

Next to him, Paige Graves stood watching the battle with a pair of omniculars. Colored lights of spells fired back and forth stood out against the clear dark star-studded night; if he wasn't fighting a war, Snape might have taken a moment to admire the stars. Instead, he admired the sight of one of the airships' wooden lower hull being blasted to splinters.

"That was a direct hit on a support ship," Paige spoke. "It looks to be going down. Our mass-protego is holding steadily under the assault."

Right then, one of the magically propelled cannon balls rammed through the rampart down near the courtyard, sending a rain of shattered stone flying.

"... for the most part," Paige gulped. Apparently, that hit was a little too close for comfort for her.

"Steady," Snape ordered. "There is nothing to worry about, miss Graves. The assault is uncoordinated. That's the problem with having a single supreme leader. If that leader is unhinged or emotionally compromised, she will sabotage her own efforts. As is witnessed here."

A runner came up onto the tower and handed Paige a scroll. She opened it and read aloud. "Commander Snape, we're about to lose Hogsmeade. When we do, the Wallies can move groundtroops around the lake and flank us. We have just a token force on the northern grounds, and they will be quickly overwhelmed."

"Inconsequential," said Snape. "Bella's main force won't last that long. Give the order for the force on the northern grounds to retreat to the Hogwarts courtyard."

Snape stepped forward, eyes on the biggest airship in the bunch, now being protected from retaliatory strikes from both the castle and the broombadiers as the support ships were forming a cordon around it. Down on the ramparts and up on the towers, his battle-magi were doing quite admirably with their long-range strikes.

"Hold up, something's happening," Paige leaned forward. "Commander, their bomb-bays are opening. They're launching portkeys! All remaining ships are!"

Ah. So this battle might get interesting after all. They must have figured out a way to get their portkeys working through the blocking charm. Honestly, he had not expected to lose the tactical advantage this early in the fight. No matter. They were still turtled up in Hogwarts.

"Commander," sounded an increasingly nervous Paige as a maelstrom of magic started to swirl down towards the portkeys. "Something's coming through. It's... It's enormous!"

"Nundus," Snape concluded. It made sense; Bella's nundus had frustrated the Phoenix Alliance's efforts in Africa considerably, after all. Arguably, they were Bellatrix's strongest weapons and she'd be a fool not to bring at least one. "I expected her to bring one or two. We can handle them."

He could see Paige tremble. "It's... it's more than two."

"More?" He had not counted on that. "How many?"

The omniculars clattered to the ground. "ALL OF THEM!"

Indeed, in the distance, smack dab on the middle of the quidditch pitch, eight nundus stood lined up by their handlers. Eight massive snarling cats with claws and teeth the size of swords wore blinkers and were being whipped up for a bullrush towards Hogwarts.

"It's insane. They're solitary creatures!" Paige wailed. "So many nundus close together is going to drive them all into a territorial frenzy."

"Get a hold of yourself, miss Graves," said Snape. "I suppose that is rather the point. Bella, a scorched Earth tactic... How incredibly deranged of you."

And then, the nundus started running. Tonnes of rippling muscles rushed towards the ramparts with frightening speed. Below him, he could see and hear his troops getting uneasy.

"Sir?" Paige gulped. "Orders?"

"All wizards to the north ramparts, have them focus their magics on repelling the nundus!" Snape ordered. "All broombadiers, concentrate fire on the big vessel. Let's, at least, take down Bellatrix's command ship from under her."

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – WUA Valkyrie – Assaulting Hogwarts**

The tide of the battle had turned rather spectacularly. Bellatrix cackled gleefully while her precious nundus were assaulting the walls of Hogwarts, tearing through the protego while breathing noxious gas and dooming defenders unfortunate enough to get in their way to be ground into a red pasty residue on the stones.

Meanwhile, at the mobile portkeys, the rest of her troops which had been standing by in Norway waiting for the signal to advance, teleported in through the mobile portkeys. Battalions of battle-magi advanced on the castle along with war-trolls while fresh broombadiers took to the skies. More and more spells lit up the night sky as they tore into the Nixie broom-riders from the east flank. Still, the defenders were relentless as they pounded the Valkyrie with spells of their own; like fanatics they kept at it while their own brooms burned to cinders right underneath their own arses. The ship shook again and again as alerts flashed and klaxons blared. Little fires had started in the command area, and one of the observation windows had shattered, sending shards of glass flying.

"We've taken too much damage," shouted the captain.

"I don't care!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Keep broadsiding Hogwarts! If we're lucky, we might even shoot Snivellus right off that tower of his!"

"Empress!" the captain pleaded, grasped her arm and looked her right in the eye. "We have multiple hull-breaches, there's fire on every deck and our balloon has been punctured in several places. That last hit took out our rudder control! We can only move starboard and forward! If we stay this close to Hogwarts, we're going to lose the ship!"

Letting out a cry of rage, an infuriated Bellatrix backhanded the woman with a closed fist. The stricken captain fell to the floor while the dark witch's chest heaved. 'No' wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. Not tonight.

"Bella!" Antonin pressed while grabbing her other arm. "This ship is done for! The Valkyrie's served us well, but it's over. We need to regroup and set up a secondary command post to support our troops on the ground."

The first thing Bellatrix did was to pound the metal railing of the command post with her fists until the underside of her hands were bruised. Then, she had an idea. "I have a better plan," she grinned. "Order all remaining airships to fall back to mobile position one. Then, give the order to abandon ship. Set up your command post at the rendezvous point."

"You're planning something, aren't you?" Antonin said while the command crew were rushing to eject from the dying ship. Bellatrix said nothing, at first, but vaulted over the railing to run towards the wheel of the ship. After grabbing hold of the spokes and reaching for the throttle control, she turned her head and shot him a wicked grin. "Time for this Valkyrie to take one last ride."

"Just don't stick around too long," Antonin said before he too abandoned ship.

Bellatrix looked through the devastated viewports and saw her target. The protego shield was still up, for the most part, but the defenders on the walls were getting decimated by the nundus. However, that wouldn't last forever; the nundus were already losing focus and two had started to attack each other. Like giants in the playground, these monsters would not care which side would get crushed underneath their massive paws. It would be best to reel them in before they would go _too_ beserk.

Enter the dying Valkyrie.

Having watched the crew pilot the ship for three days gave her a fair idea of how to pilot her. And, in truth, she had to give Yuri and his team credit with the construction of this ship; she held out under pressure better than any other airship of the Union. From the corner of her eye, she saw enemy broombadiers zipping by as they pressed their attack, but still the ship held.

With a wicked grin, she quickly set the ship on the right course, then fetched a long metal piece of debris and rammed it into the control console, locking the wheel and the throttle into place. Then, it was time to bid the Valkyrie a fond farewell.

To prevent the ship from being boarded by enemy forces, it was enchanted with an anti-apparation jinx. Unfortunately, this worked both ways, so Bellatrix couldn't escape by apparating either. Thankfully, this ship was fitted with escape tubes. Bellatrix made her way to the nearest one, grabbed hold of the metal rod above it and lifted herself into the tube. Her body slid down the narrow tube along the length of the ship until she was clear and the cold air of the night surrounded her. With the ground fast approaching, Bellatrix transformed herself into a billow of arid black smoke and shot off towards a hill near the quidditch pitch to watch her handiwork.

After rematerializing, Bellatrix could only let out a triumphant cackle when she saw the dying Valkyrie relentlessly shooting towards Hogwarts at full speed. With honest glee, she watched the ship bore itself through the protego shield and crushing the walls to the courtyard. A column of flame grasped outward in every direction when the balloon went up, bathing the entire battlefield with an orange red glow.

More than anything, she wished she could have seen the look on Snape's face. Elated and assured of the coming victory, she watched the fierce broom dogfights for a bit before moving on to the rendezvous point.

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – Hogwarts – Head Master's tower**

For once in his life, Severus Snape was utterly taken by surprise. The slytherin ex-potion master actually took a few involuntary steps back as he saw the airship headed towards them with frightening speed. Already ablaze, the ship would collide with Hogwarts within seconds. He knew Bellatrix was insane... but _this?!_

Next to him, he heard Paige's frightened gasp while below him, his troops were no doubt in a state of panic. Still, the inevitable was clear; Hogwarts was lost.

"FALL BACK!" Snape shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice magically enhanced. Horns were being sounded for the sake of those not within the reach of his vocal range. The troops didn't need to be told twice and many apparated away.

Next to him, Paige was frozen with fear. Annoyed, Snape grabbed her by the shoulder and apparated the both of them away before the airship hit the castle. Already, Wallie troops were on approach, but Severus Snape was far from defeated.

Time for Plan B.

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – Quidditch Pitch – Makeshift Command Post**

"Empress!" the soldier guarding the quickly set up command tent stood at attention as Bellatrix found her way inside, her long coat billowing around her. The quidditch patch had been transformed into somewhat of a staging ground while her troops were taking Hogwarts and mopping up the last of the resistance there.

"Bella," said Antonin as he looked up from his command map. "That was... certainly unexpected."

"You know me," Bellatrix responded with a smirk. "Any word from Douglas?"

"He's about to make his report," said Antonin. "We've pushed the Nixies out of the castle, but there's still heavy fighting in Hogsmeade and along the side of the lake. The bulk of their forces have fallen back into the Forbidden Forest."

"Hogwarts?" Bellatrix asked eagerly.

Sensing what she meant, Antonin shook his head. "We've still got some ground to cover, as the castle is resisting our invasion. But we've found no sign of Hermione and don't expect to. They must have taken her with them into the forest."

"Shit," Bellatrix hissed.

"I fear they might try to hold her hostage," said Antonin. "In the meantime, we've set up the main hall of Hogwarts as a emergency hospital for our wounded. We've lost several battalions, but the great majority is still ready and willing to fight for you."

"How many airships do we have left?" Bellatrix asked.

"Fourteen left in the air and ready to fight. Six are heavily damaged. Three are intact, but permanently downed. The Windrider is standing by to support, but she is not a combat vessel," said Antonin. "They did quite a number on us."

Bellatrix hissed in annoyance. "They took out half of the armada we've brought. Nundus?"

"Two dead and one ran off into the countryside," said Antonin. "The rest are subdued with stunning spells. We can't risk using them near our troops. They'll frenzy and attacking everything that moves."

"We'll worry about fetching the one that ran off later," said Bellatrix as she leaned over the situational map projected on the table.

In the standing mirror next to the war table, Douglas appeared as his usual cheerful cigar-puffing self. "Dark Empress!" he laughed heartily. "We saw the explosion from here! Quite impressive. And, I'm proud to say that we've accomplished our mission. Hogsmeade is ours. We'll be joining the main force soon."

"Good, well done," Bellatrix nodded. "Have you made any incursions into the forbidden forest?"

Douglas grumbled. "None of our troops have experience with dense terrain like that. I sent in some scouts but those who survived mentioned being hit from the darkness. They're employing hit and run guerrilla tactics and they know the terrain. I suspect they have several hidden outposts in the forest from which to strike at us. It's going to be difficult to ferret them out."

Bellatrix and Antonin shared a look; both of them had been there and knew from experience what a treacherous place the Forbidden Forest could be. Nasty, unpredictable and filled to the brim with nasty magic beasts.

"Our nundus are too big to go into the forest," said Douglas. "Our trolls possibility too. The canopy is too dense for proper broombadier air support. We've going to have to do this the old fashioned way, but we'll be sure to lose a lot of good people. Fortunately, we have some captives here. I'm sure we can... persuade... them to give us the locations of their outposts."

"Do it! And don't hold back!" Bellatrix ordered, then rubbed her chin. "We do have fourteen airships left. Could that be enough to flush them out with cannon fire?"

A loud explosion sounded outside, causing Bellatrix and Antonin to rush outside of the tent. The first thing they saw was an airship going down in flames. The second thing they saw was a swarm of enemy troops streaming out of the edge of the forest, scampering about like the cockroaches they were.

Her own troops, already on a high state of alert, scrambled to engage them. Brooms launched into the air while war trolls, thirsty for blood, roared eagerly. Bellatrix drew her wand and happily joined the fray. Casting one spell after the other, her blood pumped through her veins; this was where she was supposed to be – not on the bridge of a ship or in the command tent, but on the battle-field at the head of her troops. Magic was power and that power was meant to be wielded with a strong hand.

Hers was the strongest hand of all! As Empress of the Walpurgis Union, she was magic personified.

A troll roared as it threw a rock overhead, playing a game of Muggle-bowling with broombadiers in the sky. One unlucky Nixie wizard screamed as he was violently torn in half by another troll pulling him apart with his bare fists. Enemy broombadiers rained fire and death down upon them, their obvious tactic being to do as much damage as possible. To the credit of her troops, they acted quickly upon this with battalions putting up protegos while others returned the favor.

In the distance, a nundu died the death of a thousand pinpricks; the beast roared mournfully as she tried to swat and strike at the brooms with her paws. Her gas and her claws made their victims, but it was not enough. The creature let out a final grunt before collapsing to the ground.

As quickly as the assault began, the enemy started to retreat back into the forest. When one of them flew over Bellatrix's head, the dark witch whispered a spell which turned the tip of her wand into a whip. It lashed out and caught the broombadier around the chest, pulling her off her right off her broom to land on the ground with a sickening crunch. Calmly, the dark witch strolled over while around her the shouts of victory from her soldiers started to fill the night. The woman the dark witch had downed lay wheezing on her back, limbs twisted at impossible angles. Bellatrix stood over her and trailed her wand towards her.

"Hermione Granger," Bellatrix demanded. "Where?"

The woman wheezed. "F... Fuck you!"

The dark witch smirked. "Oh, you wish. But you're not my type. Hermione Granger. Where?! I won't ask nicely again!" Bellatrix snarled and parked the heel of her boot onto a piece of bone sticking out of the woman's leg. Only the slightest amount of pressure caused the woman to wail in agony.

The woman started to cough up blood. "Y-you'll never see your little traitor whore again!"

"Such heroic nonsense," Bellatrix hissed and aimed her wand. "Avada Ka..." While casting the killing curse, Bellatrix changed her mind and trailed her wand to the woman's lower half instead. "Bombarda!" she hissed.

The dark witch walked away, leaving the now bisected woman to scream and die in agony. She stood looking at the edge of the forest, eyes narrowed. When she heard someone approach, she whirled around with wand in hand, only to see Antonin holding up his hands. Bellatrix relaxed and sheathed her wand.

"That was a blitz," said Antonin. "Do as much damage as possible and retreat."

"Damage?"

"We lost one nundu and remember those six heavily damaged airships I mentioned? Three are now burning wrecks on the ground," said Antonin. "Casualties are, thankfully, low. Unfortunately, theirs are too. They've retreated into the forbidden forest. It's like Douglas said; can't use brooms, trolls or nundu's and there's not enough airships left for bombing runs."

"This is their tactic," said Bellatrix. "Bog us down in a drawn-out ground war while shelling us from afar and whittle down our troops with blitzes. Oh, Snivellus, you are clever."

Bellatrix had to admit Snape's plan was clever; the Union's usual tactic was to use overwhelming force. That tactic could not be used now, and her troops weren't trained for guerrilla warfare. The Nixies held the advantage here.

"Just got a report. Our search of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade is complete. Still no sign of Hermione," Antonin said.

Bellatrix put her fingers to her lips. "He likely brought her with him into the forest. Finding Hermione is top priority, even more important than eliminating Snape. Make sure every soldier knows that. Antonin, we're not going to sit idle. Have the war trolls advance on the forbidden forest as the vanguard and prepare ground assault squads for infiltration. We have four nundus left. Use them to block the obvious exits to the forest. Let anyone who tries to escape get a snout full of nundu gas!"

Bellatrix stared at the forest. "Antonin, divide our forces. Use our remaining airships to hold Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Have enough ground-forces stand by to repel more blitzes. I expect Douglas and his troops to join us in the Forbidden Forest."

"What will you be doing?" Antonin asked.

"This will end with the fall of Snape," Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "I'm going hunting!"

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – Hogwarts, above Hogsmeade station – Approaching the Great Lake**

Four broom-riders zipped over the landscape. Hermione, along with her friends, had rushed towards Hogwarts as quickly as their brooms could carry them. Honestly, Hermione had never liked riding brooms, having never gotten used to the fear for falling off. As a result, Hermione had never been able to handle a broom as well as the boys had and was constantly trailing behind them. Thankfully, Luna hung back a little to make sure she wouldn't fall too far behind.

In the distance, she could see that the boys were hovering over a crops of trees overlooking the lake. When she approached and stopped her broom, she could see why. The morning sun was slowly rising over the lake, casting an orange light all over the area. Over the lake, several of Bellatrix's airships were hovering while the multi-colored lights of a massive amount of spells being thrown back and forth near the quidditch patch could be seen in the distance. If the situation wasn't so dire, Hermione might have admired the view.

"God," Hermione whispered. "It's already started."

"Right," said Ron. "All we have to do is slalom around the airships, avoid all the fighting, somehow get past all the soldiers to talk to the witch who's leading an foreign invasion of the UK. Sounds like fun, right?"

Hermione made a face and took out her wand. "Or, I could just... EXPECTO PATRONUS!"

A translucent otter appeared in the sky near them. Hermione's heart skipped a beat; she was so looking forward to speaking with Bellatrix again, even if it was just through her patronus. However, the otter was just drifting around, giving her a rather apologetic look.

"Shouldn't it have gone off already?" Harry asked.

"Too much magic in the air. Besides that, magical communication is actively being suppressed by both sides to thwart each other," muttered Luna. "It's standard procedure in siege combat. Jinxes are everywhere."

"Then I'll have to find Bella and talk to her directly!" Hermione sighed.

"Back to my plan, then," said Ron.

Luna rubbed her chin. "Let's not put all our eggs in one basket. The Windrider should have joined the armada. It has specialized equipment on board for direct magical communications which I can use to contact Bellatrix. If I can get to it, that is. Ivan and Kristina should be lying low nearby. I'll join them and we'll make for the Windrider."

"Right," said Harry. "Ron and I will try to get Hermione to Bellatrix. Luna, if you can get to this ship of yours..."

"Leave it to me," Luna nodded. "Good luck to all of you. Do try not to get killed."

"And you," Hermione ordered. "Don't even think about dying, Luna. I forbid it!"

After a final nod, Luna shot off to the side, dipping low as she disappeared into the fields. Hermione and her friends shared a look and shot forward, flying low over the water of the lake to avoid being noticed. "This feels good," Ron shouted to Harry, who was taking the lead. "Just the three of us against the world, like it used to be. The world's making sense again."

"This world hasn't made sense for a long time, Ron," Harry replied.

Hermione, in the meantime, said nothing. Hermione had never been on the front-lines, not like Ron and Harry had. Oh, she'd fought her share of battles when they had been fighting Voldemort. But... but this? Spells flew back and forth over her head while the three of them took a low dive underneath the hull of a Walpurgis Union floating over the lake. Hermione was momentarily deafened when it fired its cannons on an unseen ground target, just before its wooden hull exploded in a hail of splinters. The blast caught Hermione, almost knocking her off her broom. She felt wooden splinters colliding against her back and catching in her hair. She heard the cries of the wounded, the wizards on the lower deck who were now burning head to toe. Magic hung heavy in the air, she could feel it, smell the ozone, hear the crackles... The battle of Hogwarts was a playground scuffle compared to this. There was fighting everywhere, with no end in sight. Woods were on fire, fields drenched in blood. The sheer viciousness of it all staggered her. She tried to block it out, following Harry and Ron the best she could and focus on ending the fighting.

Tears started to roll over her cheeks. This was being done for _her_ sake. But she also knew that all that was happening was instigated... it was bigger than her, bigger than Bella and Snape, even. Today, the world could potentially come to an end.

Unfortunately, as they approached the main battle, they were eventually spotted by a group of Alliance broombadiers. Harry shouted at her, urging her and Ron to fly closer in formation and pick up speed. The chase ensued quickly enough with magic flying back and forth. Hermione herself was mostly feeling numb.

"Oi!" Ron shouted at them while holding his broom with one hand and using his free hand to block spells coming from behind. "We're on _your_ side, knobheads!"

"I don't think they care, Ron!" Harry shouted back.

It was here that Hermione's lack of broomriding experience came back to haunt her. The boys were going much faster than Hermione was comfortable with, and Hermione felt that if she didn't hold both her hands on her broom it would lead to a messy high-speed and high-altitude death. As such, the Phoenix Alliance broombadiers surrounded them and, being better pilots than Hermione, managed to separate her from the boys. She tried dodging as well as she could and hoped for her friends to manage to help her, but it was painfully obvious that the soldiers had smelled blood and focused on who they perceived was the weakest member of the group. In sheer horror, Hermione became aware that the straw of her broom had been set ablaze and rapidly lost control of her broom. The broom started to bank and twist on its own and Hermione screamed when it began to spiral down. Her scream was cut short when she saw the lake shores approaching far too quickly for her liking.

Pain. Confusion. Fear. Her body was being thrown around like a ragdoll as she hit the ground. When she opened her eyes, she was looking up to the dimming stars as morning approached. Her chest heaved as tried to breathe. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to stop trying to move.

Hermione became aware that two of the soldiers had landed, probably to try to finish her off.

Not quite eager to die, Hermione tried to make a grab for her wand and get to her feet to try to defend herself, but the force of the impact had taken its toll on her. No bones appeared to be broken, but she couldn't bring herself to move. ' _God, I can't die here!'_ Hermione's mind screamed at herself. ' _Get up, Hermione! Get up! It'll be a pretty lousy prophecy if you don't even make it to the predicted event!'_

Something... happened.

She couldn't see, but the ground shook as... something... moved near her. The soldiers were suddenly frightened and trailed their wands to something beyond her vision. They didn't even have time to scream when a jet of concentrated fire shot over her and lit them ablaze. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and looked away as the sickening scent of burning flesh met her nostrils; sure, they had tried to kill her, but that was still a horrible way to die.

When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a friendly face. A friendly draconic face to be precise. Bellatrix's dragon friend had come to help her. But what as he even doing here? The dragon's massive head hovered over her, its reptilian eyes showing concern. "Hi," Hermione rasped lamely.

The dragon responded by nudging her side carefully with his muzzle. His nostrils flared with every breath. Her muscles still aching, Hermione reached over to grab hold of the dragon's horns. As she held on, the dragon slowly rose his head to pull Hermione off the ground. She leaned against him for a while, but was relieved to be standing on her feet.

Suddenly, the dragon lowered his head and spread his wings while its scaled lips curled up to reveal teeth like daggers. From the heat gathering around his throat, Hermione surmised that he was getting ready to burn something.

It was then that Harry and Ron landed, having apparently shaken their pursuers. "Whoa!" Harry exclaimed while raising his wand and Ron did the same.

"No!" Hermione shouted quickly, not wanting to see her friends being burned alive. "Don't worry, he's a friend."

"Whot?" Ron blinked. "That's a fire-breathing dragon, that is!"

"Please, just lower your wands," said Hermione. "It's okay."

The wands were lowered and, thankfully, that was enough for the dragon to calm down. It raised its head, folded its wings and allowed the boys to approach.

"You came here with Bella, didn't you?" said Hermione as the dragon craned its neck towards her. "Please, do you know where she is? Can you take me to her?"

The dragon lowered his legs and nudged her towards him. With some trouble, Hermione managed to get her aching body to climb on top of his back. With a final roar, the dragon spread his wings and took flight while Hermione held on to the spikes on the back of his neck. The wind blew through Hermione's hair as the dragon increased his speed and flapped his wings ever so often while gliding over the lake. Soon enough, Ron and Harry flanked the dragon on their brooms.

"Well," grinned Ron. "Things are looking up."

"I wouldn't exactly call this inconspicuous, Ron."

"Oh, Harry, they'll think twice before messing with us now, mate," grinned Ron.

"I hope you're right."

"Honestly," Hermione said, her voice still lacking a bit of power. "I think we're going to make it after all."

They had to.

* * *

**May 1st – Hogwarts, Scotland – Clearing in the Forbidden Forest**

Severus Snape stood at the ready in this clearing in the forest. His troops had set up secure positions within the forest, after having chased away the centaurs living here. Assaults on Wallie holdings were going as planned, morale was high and they were deeply entrenched. Even so, there had been heavy fighting in and outside the forest for hours now. The sun was slowly rising as both his soldiers and those of Bellatrix were dropping like flies.

But that didn't matter now. That was not why he had left the security of the camp. He had come here with a token force and Paige Graves had followed him of her own accord. All that had happened, all both of them had accomplished, had led to this point.

Him against her. One on one. Only the two of them would decide the fate of the wizarding world. Anyone else was irrelevant and expendable.

"Commander," Paige said. "I would feel a lot better if you were to come back to the rendezvous point. We're slowly whittling down her troops. And we have to do..."

"She will come," Snape interrupted. "There's only one way this will end."

"Please," pleaded Paige. "Sir, I respectfully..."

"She's here," said Snape. "I suggest you leave while you can..."

Indeed, the sounds of magical combat sounded nearby. Screams followed. None of them he recognized as Bella's. Two soldiers retreated into the grove he was standing in, panicked... he saw their fear when their wands shook in their trembling hands.

Bellatrix stepped into the grove soon after, looking much like a goddess of battle. Her talent was obvious as she as performing the complicated hand motions in record speed, cutting her most vicious spells through his soldiers with consummate ease. There was callousness about her as she cut his men down without even a blink of an eye. This was the Bellatrix he remembered: vicious. Merciless. Cold.

Bellatrix made a striking visage clad in her armor, having swapped her usual corset and dress for a leather breastplate adorned with sheets of metal, matching leather trousers and a long black coat. That she had been splattered with blood was no surprise; she must have been hunting through the forest for some time, cutting down his men down left and right. Against her, they never stood a chance. A mocking cackle sounded when another one of his solders was blasted from his perch in a tree only to land on the ground with a sickening crunch.

"Snivellus." Her voice was filled with malice, laced with hate. Yes. This was how it had always meant to be.

Here, surrounded by ancient trees under the waxing light of the morning sun, the fate of the wizarding world would be decided.

Unfortunately, Paige Graves foolishly decided to be a hero. "Monster!" she raised her wand. "How many of our people have you killed? And for what?"

"Honestly? I stopped counting at fifty..." Bellatrix smirked, accentuating her point with a mocking smirk.

"I will stop you!" Paige shouted.

"Miss Graves..." Snape started.

"You are small fry," Bellatrix shrugged. Before Paige even had a chance to retaliate, Bellatrix made a slight motion with her wand which sent Paige flying sharply to the right to be hurtled into the trunk of a tree with a startling crunch. Her body, now limp, slid down and landed on the forest floor with a dull thud. She lay there motionless.

"I wish you hadn't done that," Snape replied. "She was a rather adequate assistant."

"You know why I'm here, Snivellus," hissed Bellatrix. She was like a bludger waiting to be let loose; her chest heaved, her teeth gritted together. He had first met Bellatrix long ago, when he had first heard of Lord Voldemort. He had gone to a rally, mostly out of interest. In his early days, Voldemort had been compelling and charismatic, a far cry from the monster he would eventually become. Bellatrix was sat in the front row, watching the speech with wide and eager eyes. In the following years, he would get to know her well; she was powerful, intelligent and devoted. She became somewhat of a friend to him. Then, the First Wizarding War started...

Fast forward to today. Bellatrix was still powerful, intelligent and devoted, and had built an Empire of her own. In that way, she had surpassed Voldemort. They both had. If that was good or bad was something to be decided by future historians, Snape considered.

"Yes," said Snape as the two of them started circling each other in the clearing. "This has been a long time coming, Bella. We both knew that this conflict would be decided by the two of us alone."

Giving Bellatrix the honor of a proper greeting at the start of a wizarding duel, Snape whipped his wand to one side and bowed his head. When he raised his head, he could see a bolt of magic already rushing towards him. He grunted as the force of the blow to his ribcage knocked him off his feet and sent him flying. Immediately, Snape apparated away to end up standing with both feet on the ground.

"No rules!" Bellatrix hissed while tossing another spell. "No more niceties!" And another. "No more lies!" One more.

Snape easily deflected the spells, and he guessed she was either simply testing the waters or venting. "As you wish," he drawled before letting loose.

Two powerful wills clashed by the grace of their magics. Block, side-step, retaliate. Block, side-step, retaliate. As expected, Bellatrix's powers had much increased since their last duel, but so had his own. Bolts slammed together, sending sparks and multi-colored energies exploding outward. Bellatrix moved like a serpent, zipping left and right and waving her wand like a whirling dervish.

He slipped up by letting his eyes wander to the treeline, thinking Bellatrix would move left when she moved right. It was an opening which Bellatrix grabbed with both hands. In an instant, she was upon him; after a stunner in his chest, he just managed to see Bellatrix's hand grabbing his face. He grunted when he felt her talons slice into his cheek.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Bellatrix shrieked. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

Interesting. Snape realized that despite her escape, miss Granger had not managed to contact Bellatrix. This could be exploited.

Snape stepped back and swung his wand; his stunner was blocked but it threw back Bellatrix somewhat. "You're too late. Miss Granger was true to herself to the last moment and pleaded with me to adhere to the treaty. Execution was quick and painless through the use of the killing curse, after which she was buried in an unmarked grave in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. For what it's worth, her final thoughts were of you."

That had the desired effect. Bellatrix's expression was one of shock and disbelief. Blood drained from her cheeks as her eyes grew wide and her lips trembled. A torrent of conflicting emotions followed.

"You lie," she spoke softly. "You lie! YOU LIE!" Though she sounded somewhat confident, her eyes and her expression told an entirely different story. Snape felt an attempted invasion of his mind, as Bellatrix obviously tried to lift the truth out of his head. It was easily thwarted as her legilimency was erratic and poorly guided, giving him a good indication of what Bellatrix's current mental state was.

It was then that Bellatrix threw her head back and let out an agonized wail. The way Bellatrix poured all her loss and sorrow into it cut him to the bone. At that moment, Snape did feel a pang of regret and sympathy. Was this the same expression of sorrow he had when he had held Lily's body close to him?

Bellatrix, however, recovered quickly. Her chest heaved as blacked mascara-filled tears ran over her cheeks. "You took her away from me..." she whispered dangerously. "I'll kill you. I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Ah, that was the desired result. Snape could see the murder in her eyes, the pain and loss as she pressed her attack. Spell after spell, curse after curse, jinx after jinx were thrown towards him. Unlike Bellatrix, he stayed calm and easily deflected each and every one of the clumsily thrown spells. Anger brought lack of discipline and focus; and by now, Bellatrix was _very_ angry. All he needed to do was keep defending and wait for an opening.

"I'll break every bone in your body!" Bellatrix shouted while pressing her attack. Magic flew through the air, crackling with ozone. "Suffer! SUFFER!"

And there was his opening. A stunner broke through her defenses and sent her flying. To make sure, he followed it up with two more while she was airborne. The dark witch ended up sprawled on the ground like a ragdoll. She lay there, panting and groaning.

Snape calmly stepped over to her, wand in hand, until he stood over her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with burning hatred. "I take no pleasure in this, Bella," said Snape as he aimed his wand. "It will be over soon. No more pain."

For a split second, he could see the corners of her mouth starting to curl up into a wicked grin. Instantly, Bellatrix disapparated with a pop. He only realized his mistake when he felt a sharp pain exploding through his side. The wind was knocked out of him as he let out a sharp grunt, shuddering when he looked down and saw Bellatrix' hand on the hilt of the dagger now sticking out of his side.

"If I fall today, Snivellus," he heard whisper in his ear. "I'm taking you with me. I've got nothing left to lose now. Die... or defeat me... either way, the wizarding world you know is forever gone!"

Another pop sounded before he sank to his knees. With a grunt, he pulled the dagger from his side and fell down on all fours from the pain. Grasping his wand in bloodied hand, he frantically looked around. However, Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. It was obvious she was still near, though, judging from the girlish giggle sounding from beyond the clearing.

It was then that Snape started to realize that he might just have made a severe error in judgment.

This was made all the more clear when Bellatrix came shrieking out from the treeline like a wailing banshee. He raised his wand to repel her, only to have her apparate and disapparate while barreling towards her. Her talons found his face for a second time, followed up by a spell to the groin.

He fell to the ground with a cry and Bellatrix was gone once more. The giggling came from multiple directions now, making is impossible for him to predict from which direction should would attack from. Snape hissed as he got to his feet and whispered a quick healing spell to stop the bleeding from his side.

Indeed, it has been a horrible idea to unhinge Bellatrix. There was pure madness in her eyes, and the expected recklessness had made place for sheer focus. She wanted him dead more than anything.

"You killed her you killed her you killed her!" sounded behind him, and Snape spun around just in time to see a wailing Bellatrix mere feet away from him having jumped mid-air with wand pointing straight at his face. He barely managed to block her attack, throwing the spell to his side where it exploded in the soil of the forest. The dark witch let out a tearful wail before laughing maniacally while running away. And then she came back with murder in her eyes and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog. "I'm going to BURY you here!"

This time, Snape was ready. A jet of magic exploded from his wand, colliding with a jet of magic from Bellatrix. It would become a battle of wills from here; Snape's cold calculated rationality versus Bellatrix's passionate rage. For the sake of the wizarding world, _he_ would have to be the one to emerge victorious.

* * *

**May 1st 2004 – Hogwarts grounds – On approach of the Forbidden Forest**

If the situation wasn't so dire, Hermione might have even enjoyed the ride. The dragon was making his was across the lake and towards the forbidden forest. Unfortunately, the shortest way there was straight through the heaviest of the fighting. At this point, only Bellatrix would be able to call off the attack. But she would listen to her. She _knew_ Bella would listen to her.

Flanked by Harry and Ron on their brooms, Hermione was flown past a devastated Hogwarts. Granted, it wasn't as badly damaged as it had been the last time, but it pained her to see this great institute of learning in shambles once again. However, that paled in comparison to the full-on battle going on in the field near the quidditch pitch. Wizard against wizard, witch against witch. The war she had worked so hard to end was raging underneath her. She closed her eyes when a troll impaled a wizard on his wristblade. She tried to block out the screams of the dying and the wounded over the sounds of the battle and the crackling of spells. Magic... such a wonderful and terrible thing.

Worse yet. All this magic being thrown around... the sheer amount of it was staggering. Ouroboros, the Dread Progenitor, must be laughing. If It even _could_ laugh, that is.

"Heads up!" Harry shouted. "Company!"

Again, they had attracted attention of broombadiers. Unclear of which side, but that hardly mattered at this point. The dragon angled down sharply and headed for the treeline, banking heavily. The dragon sped over the canopy with the broombadiers still in hot pursuit. Harry and Ron did their best to harass them, but the dragon with the girl on its back proved to be a more enticing target. The dragon, though, was not born yesterday; it sped up and then suddenly angled its body, spread out its wings and started flapping while Hermione hung onto the spikes on his neck for dear life. The broombadiers overshot the dragon and those who were not thrown off their brooms by the air displaced by his wings, were treated to a full serving of fire.

The threat having been dealt with, the dragon continued on his path while Harry and Ron flanked them once more.

"What's that?!" Ron shouted, pointing to the distant forest. Obviously, there were some battles going on in the forest, judging from the frantic multicolored lights which could be seen through even the densest part of the canopy. However, there was one spot in the forest were the light was so intense that it was nearly blinding. That must be where Bella would be.

The dragon banked sharply to the right as he prepared to bear down on a clearing. Hermione could only smile broadly when she laid eyes upon her Bellatrix. Her dark witch was locked in deadly combat with Professor Snape. Both were throwing unimaginable raw power into their spells which collided together in the middle of the grove.

"BELLA!" Hermione cried out, but she was still too far away for her dark lover to hear her.

"We have to do something!" Hermione shouted to Harry and Ron.

Fortunately, the dragon knew just what to do. He once again angled his body and spread his wings to some to a stop. With a single breath, he hurled down a ball of fire which ripped right through the spell and crashed into the ground. The explosion startled both Bellatrix and Snape enough to break their concentration and threw the both of them backwards.

However, just as Hermione was urging the dragon to land, there was an odd feeling which overcame her. It was as if there was some sort of ripple through the very fabric of reality itself, accompanied by a rumbling coming from the Earth.

"Did you feel that too?" Harry asked.

Hermione gasped in horror as she realized what was happening. The entire forest was suddenly bathed in a sickly green glow and when Hermione looked over her shoulder, she was startled to see a massive column of green light exploding upwards from the lake. Like a waterhose, the water of the lake was being carried upwards into the ether. _Something_ was coming up from the lake.

"God," Hermione gasped. "We're too late."

She barely had time to scream before the shockwave rushing in from the green column hit her.

* * *

**Location=∞. T=zero.**

UNLEASHED!


	32. Children of the Elder God

**May 1st 2004? - Location indeterminate**

Hermione groaned as she slowly sat up and rubbed the dirt from her hair with her hand. This was the second time this night Hermione had taken a bad tumble to the ground and it had been just as painful as the first. The last thing she remembered was the incoming shockwave knocking her off the dragon. After that? Falling. Ending up flat on her back with the wind knocked out of her. It was a small miracle that she hadn't broken her neck.

When she opened her eyes, however, she was startled to see the forest bathed in that same sick green glow she had seen at the temple and in her dreams. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. The sounds were... off, as if she was hearing while her ears were full of water after just getting out of the pool. The further away the sounds, the more distorted they were. She could make out screams; pain, terror, anger and some shouts which sounded utterly deranged.

Hermione got to her feet, but found her movement to be slowed somewhat. The air was heavy and felt like a soup. Every step forward was like wading through molasses. She didn't see Bellatrix, the dragon or her friends. She was alone and she was... not. It was hard to explain, but even though she was completely alone, she felt thousands of eyes upon her.

As she stepped forward, there were ripples in front of her. Curiosity demanded her to investigate and she found herself looking through reality as if it was a veil. If she peered carefully, she could see different realities behind her own; it was as if universes were blending together in a single spot. Several of the trees of the forest seemed to ripple, as if they existed in another universe she could see, but not in her own.

Then, she gasped. Several layers beyond her own, she could see an odd object in the distance; it was round and large and seemed to float in the peripheral of her vision. She tried to squint to see it better. But when the round thing blinked, she became startlingly aware of just what it was.

A massive eye belonging to an equally massive creature in some universe which was completely alien to her own. She could only hoped that whatever it was hadn't noticed her or, if it had, that the creature couldn't cross over.

As Hermione was making her way blindly through the forest, she started to notice that the trees were twisting at unnatural angles. They folded in onto themselves, as if they were gigantic ribcages. Underneath this makeshift wooden ribcage, she saw two fighting soldiers frozen in time. One woman from the Walpurgis Union had just launched the killing curse right into the Alliance man's chest. Frozen in time, his face was distorted while the magic itself billowed around him. Hermione stood next to them, observing that time was not frozen but crawling by ever so slowly.

By now, a dull throbbing pain started to form in the back of her head as her brain tried to make sense of things which could never make sense. Time and space were losing their meaning; magic had become unreliable, as was witnessed when she passed more soldiers this time. They were moving at normal speed until a wizard's wand exploded in his face in blinding light when once again the spectacle slowed in time. She passed other troops fighting, or at least tried to. They seemed to be completely unaware of her passing.

Just as she stopped to observe, she sensed someone approach her. It was another odd feeling; for some inexplicable reason, she was already aware who was approaching her. "Luna!" Hermione whirled around to look in the face of her friend. Honestly, Luna looked like she had gone through the war; her clothes were soaked, face was covered with soot, her left cheek was one big bruise and there was a deep gash on the side of her upper leg.

"Hermione," Luna smiled warmly. "I knew I would find you. I wanted to find you, so I did. Desire and belief has power in this place."

"I thought you went to the Windrider," Hermione stated.

"I did, but she was taken down and crashed into the lake before I could contact Bellatrix," said Luna. "I saw to the shore and made my way over here on foot."

"What?!" Hermione blinked. "But the lake isn't anywhere near the Forbidden Forest."

"It is now," said Luna. "Hermione, close your eyes. Think of Hogwarts. Think hard. Think of fond memories and truly desire to be there."

Considering the situation they were in, thinking of better times and better places was practically automatic. She remembered the library she had spent so much time in, the smell of the dusty old tomes she loved. She remembered the common room she had spent time in with friends. The dining hall, the classrooms... And when she opened her eyes, she saw the forest path leading to Hogwarts right in front of her. Another blink and it was gone again.

"Reality is unraveling. This is only the beginning," said Luna with more than a little urgency. "Time and space are folding together and it's spreading fast. We only have so many moments left before madness overtakes us completely. It's time to bind the creature."

"These aren't exactly the 'controlled conditions' I was hoping for," Hermione shook her head.

"We're in the epicenter. Stopping the fighting is moot now," said Luna. "We have to play with the hand we are dealt. I'll keep you focused for as long as I can, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She was scared. In fact, that was an understatement; she was utterly terrified. In a few moments, she would attempt to bind to herself an unknowable being which was, for all intents and purposes, a god. What would happen to her? Would it even work? Would she still be Hermione Granger afterwards? What if It overwhelmed her? What if it was simply a reprieve for It because a prison of flesh was far easier to escape from than a prison of stone? So many questions and no answers. Not even the writers of the Dead Grimoire could know.

Despite being terrified and having no idea what would happen to her, Hermione steeled herself. "I'm ready," she whispered. But really, she wasn't ready. Not by any means.

"Come," said Luna as she took her by the hand and limped by her side. The landscape distorted further and further, becoming ashen-gray in places and impossibly colorful at other. Plants came up, bloomed, withered and turned to dust in a manner of seconds.

"It's getting worse," said Luna. "Creatures from other realities are crossing over now."

Indeed, she saw her dragon friend fighting for his life against some twisted sea-anemone like creature with dozens of razor-sharp tendrils. Though the dragon had received several angry lashes across his hide, he was keeping the upper hand by answering the monster's attacks with searing dragonfire.

"We've got to help him," Hermione said as she looked on from a distance.

"There's nothing we can do," said Luna as she pulled on her sleeve. "Come. Keep moving."

Hermione shook her head as a plan started to take shape. She took out her wand and aimed for the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Hermione!" Luna hissed. "Don't!"

As soon as Hermione whispered the spell, she was thrown backwards by the sudden force of the magic thrust out of her wand. Once again, she landed on her back, causing her still aching ribs to once again receive a beating. When she looked up, she saw that her spell had taken a much greater chunk out of the tree than she was expecting. Still, the magic did what she had planned; the tree toppled over with a mournful crack, only land squarely on top of the anemone-like creature. A shudder went through the thing, as it withdrew its tentacles. Dragon took the opportunity to escape by flapping his wings and taking flight, but not before treating the creature to another burst of flame as a parting gift.

"Look around you! Magic is unreliable," said Luna as she helped Hermione up and started dragging her deeper into the forest.

"I've noticed," replied Hermione.

"Use it only when you have to. If..." Suddenly, Luna thrust Hermione against a tree and covered her mouth. Her friend put her finger to her lips and shushed her to silence. It was then that she noticed there was a group of bipedal lizard-men dressed in rags and carrying spears nearby. Creatures from another reality, these curious beings were now exploring new hunting grounds. Together, Luna and Hermione hid in the underbrush until there was a safe distance between them and the hunters.

Another terrifying moment came when Hermione suddenly came face to face with... herself. The other Hermione was just as startled as she was and looked at her with eyes wide as saucers. Then, the other Hermione heard something, turned her head and quickly ran off.

"That was you from a parallel universe," Luna explained.

"Just how many realities are affected?" Hermione asked.

"Quite likely all of them," said Luna. "We need to save them all."

"Right," Hermione muttered. "No pressure."

And finally, the forest gave way to the edge of the lake. A column of sickly green light shot into the heavens, like a tentacle reaching out for prey. The distortions in reality were the worst here. All water had been drained from the lake by now and above it were floating rocks with ruined structures on it, defying gravity. Sound, smell and sight blended together, creatures flew through the air which were unspeakable mockeries of themselves. Layers of reality were continuously folding together. Massive creatures swimming through from another dimension, passing right through the gathered wizards without noticing them. And to think this was only the start.

Hermione averted her eyes from the center of the lake; what she saw was something so alien, so vast and so incomprehensible that it could only be Ouroboros, the Dread Progenitor, Itself. Or, a part of It? It was hard to tell. Hermione quickly averted her eyes to spare her sanity for the spell. She knew what she saw could likely be only the tiniest part of the creature. Though this small crack in its prison, It would slide Itself out like an octopus through the neck of a bottle.

The Earth started to shake as the creature was pushing against its boundaries. If this kept going, the world would shake itself apart.

"There!" Luna smiled. "We must… Oh… Oh, dear…"

That tone of voice didn't sound encouraging. Hermione spun around to see an oddly tranquil expression on Luna's face.

"Luna?"

"I've fulfilled my purpose," Luna smiled softly. "I've guided you to where you needed to be. I showed you the truth. My part in this tale has been fully played out."

"Luna, what are you talking about?"

"I recognize this place," Luna shook her head. "I have seen my own death coming for years. I've accepted it. Ah. I believe this is it. Yes, very clearly. There's a rock that looks like a dragon, and the fallen willow tree."

Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Don't be silly, Luna. You're not going to die. The prophecy is wrong. I don't see anything that can harm us here."

"Thank you for being my friend, Hermione," Luna smiled warmly as she took a few steps backwards. "Do me a favor. Tell my father that I'm sorry. And that I love him."

"Luna, you're are not going to d..." Hermione started to say, but what happened next would always be a blur of shock and horror. Mid-sentence, Hermione's face and chest were suddenly splattered with warm blood. Something had... exploded from Luna's chest; a tremble went through Hermione when she noticed a thin and long tentacle had lashed out through a newly formed hole in reality in search of prey. Strange-colored water poured through the hole some twelve meters into the air, above the treeline. For a single moment, Hermione and Luna locked eyes. Luna wasn't in pain, nor afraid. There was a single spasm as blood trickled from her mouth.

Futily, Hermione reached out to grab Luna when the tentacle whipped her upward, throwing her body around like a ragdoll. Luna did not scream or even react at all. Her body was slammed first into the willow tree and then into the rock shaped like a dragon, leaving a bright red smear on the side. While Hermione looked on in stunned horror, the tentacle quickly pulled Luna's limp body through the window into its own reality. The water on the other side turned bright red before the window to the other world slowly faded away, taking her friend with it.

"LUNA!" tears streamed down her cheeks while she fell to her knees, crying out in denial. Luna, poor Luna, her friend whom had sacrificed everything to save everybody in every reality had fallen victim to the whims of an uncaring being to whom everybody she knew and loved were nothing but tools or playthings.

Sadness was replaced with anger as she grit her teeth and balled her firsts in the dirt of the lakeside. "You bastard," Hermione hissed. "I don't care if you're an elder god or not. I'M GOING TO FUCKING END YOU!"

' _Right. Look into the maw of madness. You can do this, Hermione,'_ the young witch steeled herself and pointed her wand at herself. Getting ready to pull off the complicated wand-movements and recitation, she turned around and looked straight at the creature. Instantly, her head exploded in pain, but Hermione was determined to keep going. Her eyes started tearing from the pain as kept going. She was halfway through her recitation when she started to hear whispers in her head. It was enough to throw her off and fumble the spell. Hermione swore and quickly looked away. Unfortunately, the voices remained. The whispers were inaudible, but she didn't need to hear the words to know the voices didn't have her best interests at heart.

_'Right, that's another decade of nightmares_ ,' Hermione thought wryly and was determined to try again. Starting from the top, she pointed the wand herself and once again gazed directly at the creature. She got a little further with the recitation but her body started to protest against the strain of processing what she was seeing. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer as unnatural fears started to overtake her, feeling as if it was about to burst from her ribcage. The voices in her head became louder and louder until she recognized the voices as her own. It was as if all her innermost doubts had been given form.

_'Nothing you ever did mattered'. 'Your friends hate you'. 'Your parents were happier with you erased from their memories'. 'Everything you do fails'. 'Bellatrix never loved you'. 'You are already dead'. 'Luna is dead because of you'. 'You can't save the people you love'. 'You are nothing but a filthy little mudblood'. 'You parents never wanted you'. 'You should have been drowned at birth'._

"Shut up," Hermione hissed through her tears, fumbling her spell for a second time.

Once again, Hermione found herself on all fours looking away from the Dread Progenitor as she fell to the ground while hyperventilating like a whippet.

_'You can't stop It. Spare yourself the pain.'_

"Shut up!"

' _End it. Kill yourself. You are nothing. Nobody will miss you. End it. End your suffering.'_

"SHUT UP!" Hermione rose to her feet and whirled around to face the monster once more. Frantically, she started to recite the spell, hoping to finally be able to finish it. Looking at the alien geometry caused her to tremble and the pain in her head became too much to bear. This time, she felt like her very soul was being torn asunder, to a point that she didn't feel like a part of this universe any longer. It was as if she had become an observer in her own body, not in full control of her own actions.

Once again unable to finish the spell, she fell to the fetal position and hugged herself as she shivered. "I can't do it... I can't do it... I can't do it..." she cried to herself while the whispers in her head had become shouts now.

' _KILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELFKILLYOURSELF!'_

Though she felt awful, she was laughing maniacally. Some semblance of rationality left in her was wondering just why she was doing that. With a hand that was no longer her own, Hermione kept twirling her wand at herself.

Yes. She wanted to end it all. No more pain. No more suffering. The sweet release of death. It was for the best. She was a failure. She was nothing. A weak, pathetic little girl unable to deal with a creature she could never even hope to understand. What chance did she have? What chance did she ever have? It was foolish to even try. Best to die now. Best to end it now. Die while she could still die a human.

"Ava... Ava... Avada K... Avada Keda..."

Faces flashed in front of her eyes as her last remaining inkling of sanity tried to fight back; her little sister, Ophelia, who would die without ever having lived the full life she deserved. Bella, the woman whom she'd come to care for so much, she too deserved a second chance. Her friends, Harry and Ron, and their families... her parents... they'd all suffer a fate worse than death if she were to end her of life right now.

It took every bit of her remaining willpower to force herself to let go of her wand and let it fall into the mud.

"I... am _not_... selfish enough to kill myself!" she told the cruel voices. They never stopped taunting her.

God, this was impossible. Her sanity was so sapped by now that any more attempts would undoubtedly turn her into a gibbering drooling idiot. She just couldn't do it; she just couldn't gaze upon the creature and cast the spell at the same time. Thoughts of her friends and family kept her grounded and brought her back, silencing the whispers for now. "Bella," Hermione whispered through her tears as she fell to the ground, eyes averted from the creature. "Bella, where are you? I need you!"

* * *

**Forbidden Forest Unmade**

Bellatrix sank to her knees as her heart pounded in her chest. A few more deep breaths to center herself, and she raised her head to let out a massive cackle. "Hah!" she laughed. "You picked a fight with the wrong fucking witch!"

Around her lay the bodies of twelve scaly reptile-men. She had come across them after having been flung into the woods after the magical explosion and they'd attacked her on sight.

A rather poor decision on their part.

The creatures had been surprisingly resistant to magical attacks and disturbingly agile. But Bellatrix Black would _not_ fall to a bunch of scaly primitives with spears. However, she hadn't exactly come out of the fight unscathed; one of the lizards got her in the shoulder and she should feel blood trickling down her right cheek from a cut left by a grazing arrow. The sharp pain in her side, along with warm blood slowly spreading out made her realize she had been stabbed through a seam in her armor.

But this was no time to linger. She forced herself to raise to her feet and soldier on to find Snape and kill him. Around her, the world had gone to shit. Colors blended together and when she blinked, trees which were yards away were suddenly in front of her with the blink of an eye. The sky itself was shrieking, and from the depths of the forest she could hear the cries of the dying, as well as unidentifiable gutteral clicks not of this Earth.

Hallucinations? Was all this caused by blood-loss? Did that even work that quickly? No matter. Nothing mattered. All that mattered was finding Snape and making him pay for murdering Hermione.

_Her_ Hermoine.

Bellatrix closed her eyes and choked down a sob. Part of her still didn't want to believe it. Her sadness quickly turned into an endless rage. After letting out a cry of loss and pain from the depth of her lungs, magic sprung from her wand and turned a once proud ancient tree into splinters. When she opened her eyes, she surveyed the results of her actions, intending to do the same to Snape.

" _You were always impulsive,"_ sounded an eerily familiar voice. " _That's what I always valued about you."_

No. It couldn't be. Not him.

She twirled around and found herself face to face with... "YOU ARE DEAD!" Bellatrix hissed in his face.

" _Show some respect to YOUR LORD!"_ the old snake narrowed his eyes as he roared at her. Instinctively, Bellatrix recoiled and bowed her head submissively. It took her a few moments to regather her courage and stare her former lord down.

" _Finally grew a backbone, hm?"_ spoke Voldemort. " _You were always my favorite, Bella. So... eager to please. So... exploitable."_

"You used me," Bellatrix responded. "I am no longer blind to that. I don't answer to you anymore!"

" _No? But you owe me so much, Bella,"_ Voldemort laughed cruelly. " _It was I who gave you purpose. It was I who allowed you to escape your unhappiness and depression. It was I guided you and taught you. You would be nothing without me. We are eternally linked to one another."_

Bellatrix wanted to cry a denial, to spit in his face. But she could do neither.

" _You were never leadership material, Bella,"_ spoke Voldemort. " _You have no vision, no drive. You build upon the works of others. Certainly, you've built an empire, but at the behest of another. So is your biggest achievement even yours to begin with? And how long will you keep it? Your soldiers are dying. Your Empire will burn. Your name will be cursed, loathed and finally forgotten."_

"Like yours?" Bellatrix smirked. "You are dead and gone."

" _And you?"_ Voldemort replied. " _You will be forever a slave."_

A flash in front of her blinded her momentarily. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself in a different clearing than she was before; the lizards were gone, as was her former lord. But, in his place, now stood her beloved Hermione.

Bellatrix let out a cry of joy and was about to rush towards her when she noticed something was definitely off and stopped in her tracks. There was a wicked sneer on her beautiful face which gave the dark witch pause; the young witch held herself with snide contempt towards her.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix asked.

" _Ah, Bella,"_ Hermione spoke harshly. " _So disgustingly naive."_

"What?!" Bellatrix demanded.

" _You heard me,"_ spoke Hermione. " _To think that anyone could love someone like you. You're laughable and pathetic. A sad, sad woman past her prime. Your own family hates you. It was fun seducing you. It was fun to finally have true revenge."_

"Little dove?" Bellatrix balled her fists in anger. No. No, this couldn't be true.

" _I used you,"_ said Hermione. " _I used you to get what I wanted. That's all you ever were to me. A means to an end. It was a bit of a chore putting up with you for so long, but I can't argue with the results."_

The... thing that was Hermione started pacing around her with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. " _Honestly, what woman would have you?"_

Hermione's words were a punch to the gut. Bellatrix felt her breath quicken.

" _You're nothing. You're less than nothing,"_ Hermione cackled. " _An immature woman-child with delusions of grandeur. You... actually thought I loved you, didn't you? Oh, how ironic."_

Bellatrix closed her eyes and felt her anger melt away. A smile crept her lips, and when she opened her eyes, she could see 'Hermione' looking upon her with confusion. "You are the only nothing here," Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Do you honestly believe I do not recognize my own doubts and fears? These are thoughts that have kept me up at night plenty of times. I've come to terms that they're not based in reality. And neither are you!"

The 'Hermione' sputtered for a moment before Bellatrix turned on her heels and stormed off into the forest. She had no time to speak with figments of her own imagination... or perhaps creations of this odd spell that was changing reality around her. She had Snape to find and revenge to enact. If Hermione was truly dead, she would pay back her killers in blood. Every single Phoenix Alliance soldier still alive was going to be choking on their own tongues tonight; she would see to it personally.

She was about to reach the edge of the clearing when she heard another voice behind her. " _Bella?"_ she heard spoke in a tearful voice.

Bellatrix stopped walking and closed her eyes. "No," she whispered. "It's not you. You're not here."

She turned around and, in the middle of the clearing, sat her little sister Andromeda. It was always said they resembled each other; if Bellatrix hadn't been a few years older, they could have been mistaken for twins. Her little sister Andromeda, tearful and spiteful at the same time, was cradling...

Bellatrix closed her eyes and muttered a curse.

She was cradling the lifeless body of her daughter Nymphadora. She looked just like the time they had encountered each other last.

" _Why? Why did you do it, Bella?"_ Andromeda's eyes bore down into her soul. _"Why did my sweet little girl have to die?"_

A thousand responses ran through her head. 'It was war'. 'She was the enemy'. 'She attacked me first!'. All excuses she had told herself to avoid blame. In the end, Bellatrix had come to realize that everything had been her own decision. She didn't have to use lethal spells against her niece but she had. She'd been powerful enough to swat her away and take off, but she hadn't.

" _You were always the one to lecture me on the importance of family,_ " said Andromeda, her voice full of spite, her expression one of fury. " _Disgusting hypocrite! She was your own niece! She was your blood!_ "

Deep down, Bellatrix knew that this was yet another figment, her own doubt and fear given flesh by the strange magics in the air. But there was something entirely different in this figment; it tapped into something much deeper, something so painful she pushed it away so deep inside of her that it returned to her in the dead of night when she was surrounded by the quiet and unable to escape...

_Regret_.

Bellatrix tried to shout an angry retort to her little sister. Andie hadn't understood; she'd never understood. What it meant to be a witch, a warrior, a pure-blood paragon. What it meant to wage war, make decisions which affected millions. What it meant to forge a future. What sacrifices had to be made.

Excuses, every single one of them. Bellatrix had murdered her own family. In cold blood. And she had enjoyed it. She remembered standing over her niece, gloating over her as the light faded from her eyes.

" _When we were little,"_ Andie spoke. " _You promised you'd always look out for your family. You promised you'd always take of us. Nymphadora would have loved you as family, but you never gave her a chance! And look what you've done to her!"_

There was no escaping from what she had done. The reality of all came crushing down upon her like a ton of bricks. There was a fleeting moment of defiance, but the angry retort died on her lips. She fell to her knees, her hands digging into the soil as her body started to shake.

"I'm sorry!" yelled the dark witch as tears started to stream over her cheeks, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. "I'm so very sorry!"

" _Bella?_ "

She looked up into the gentle eyes of her little sister, kneeling besides her. Her expression was soft and loving. Bellatrix felt her lips tremble as she looked up with widened eyes. Andie gently lay her hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with her thumb.

Was this… forgiveness?

Impossibly fast, Andie's gentle face twisted and contorted into a mockery of humanity. With matted hair, jet-black eyes and a toothy grin in a mouth that was impossibly wide, the creature let out a shriek. Before Bellatrix could respond, a razor-sharp trio of talons struck across her cheek with devastating speed. The dark witch let out a yelp as pain exploded through her face.

She raised her arms to defend herself as the Andromeda-creature was op top of her, slashing at her with its claws. Thankfully, the talons mostly scraped over the metal plates of her armor protecting her forearms and chest. Bellatrix let out an angry cry and pushed the flailing creature away from her slightly. Though the thing was trashing about, it was thankfully light. She folded her legs together, digging her boots into the creature's abdomen before kicking out. The creature was sent flying backwards, giving Bellatrix the momentum she needed. Thankfully, she spotted her wand lying in the dirt nearby. Without hesitation, the battered dark witch dove towards it, grabbing it just as she rolled past and jumped to her feet.

The Andromeda-thing stalked like a panther as it prepared to pounce her, only to be confronted with the business-end of Bellatrix's wand.

Apparently not liking its odds, the distorted creature skittered off into the woods on all fours hissing as it went. Her chest heaving from the exertion, Bellatrix watched it go while torrents of warm blood dripped down her cheek. The talons had cut down to the bone. The attack had left her battered, bloodied, bruised and emotionally drained.

But she couldn't be defeated. Not here. Not like this. She ignored the pain and soldiered onward, wiping away the last tears as she tried to regain her strength.

Deeper. Deeper into the forest she went. Surrounded by increasingly alien cries as unseen creatures invaded their world. She no longer heard her soldiers off into the forest, which was in itself not an encouraging sign. Blood started flowing down her neck and into her armor. Anger welled up in her; Bellatrix wanted no more games, no more distractions. She wanted this to finally end by confronting whatever was the cause for this.

With a sudden flash, the path gave way to... somewhere else. It was beyond disorientating; it had been a few years since she'd been to Hogwarts, but she was certain that the lake wasn't anywhere near the depths of the Forbidden Forest. And yet there it was. She could clearly hear the sounds of water as she pushed through the thick underbrush.

The trees gave way to a spectacle that was, for Bellatrix, beyond belief. She was standing on the shores of the now drained lake. Clay, rocks and remnants buildings floated in the sky in front of her, slowly raising up beyond a deep crack in the depths of what had been the lake. And beyond that...

_Merlin!_

It hurt her head to look upon it, but she instantly recognized it. Five years ago today, she had died and had been brought into limbo. 'Something' had followed her there. 'Something' had grabbed her and forced her back into the land of the living. Her chest heaved as her wand dropped limply from her hand. Those lights... that presence. She hadn't recognized it before, but realized it had been with her ever since that day. Always in the back of her mind, forcing her on her path and punishing her whenever she deviated.

She started to tremble from rage and fear as she recalled the words of Hermione. 'Ouroboros' It was called according to her, and It would be the doom of reality. For years, she had unwittingly done Its bidding.

"Merlin," she whispered to herself. "It's true."

Her voice was tiny as she stepped forward, transfixed on the lights in front of her. But fear? That was not how she wanted her life to end. Bellatrix was a creature of pride and determination; she wouldn't give in. She'd never give in.

Finding her courage, she raised her head to look upon the face of Madness itself and felt her sanity beginning to erode. ' _No big loss_ ', was the thought that crossed her mind as she bravely and defiantly confronted the creature. Oh, she knew she would lose, but she would die on her own terms and no one else's. Not even that of a cosmic horror threatening the world with extinction.

"I was never..." Bellatrix hissed angrily. "Nor shall I ever be _YOUR SLAVE!"_

* * *

**The Flesh That Thinks**

Hermione's chest heaved as she forced herself to calm down. Perhaps she could try again one more time. Deep in her heart, she knew she was going to fail. But what choice did she have? The voices in her head kept taunting her, belittling her. Her own doubts and fears assaulted her from within her own mind. But... she knew she had to try.

"Merlin, it's true," sounded a nearby whisper.

Bella.

Hermione opened her eyes and sat up to see Bellatrix standing some ten meters away from her at the edge of the lake, eyes transfixed on the center of the lake.

She was bruised, battered and bloodied, but it was her Bella!

"Bella!" Hermione called out. There was no reaction, however. It was as if she was not aware of her presence. Fate, it seemed, had to throw another cruelty at her. The woman she loved could not see her.

It was then that something extraordinary happened. With sheer hate and determination on her face, the dark witch raised her chin imperious and stared directly toward the monster in the lake. "I was never..." Bellatrix hissed. "Nor shall I ever be _YOUR SLAVE_!"

It was only then that Hermione understood, thinking back to the prophecy in the Dead Grimoire.

" _She who bravely gazes into the maw of madness,_

_Must become its mortal jailer true._ "

It became clear why she was always so bad at divination. Hermione and Luna had both thought that the entire prophecy had been about her and her alone, but now saw that was not the truth. Hermione was just the binder. It wasn't she who was prophesied become the living prison for that beast. It was Bellatrix!

In that instant, she knew what she had to do. Though she feared greatly for the woman she loved, it was the only way to stop this madness for spreading. "Bella," she whispered, hoping her dark lover would understand. "Forgive me."

For a fourth time, but now unobstructed by madness, Hermione started to cast the complicated spell again, wand trembling in her hand as she aimed it at Bellatrix.

* * *

**Reality Asunder**

Severus Snape had spent either a second or an eternity traveling through a forest gone mad. What had happened? How could this be?

Whatever the direct cause, he just knew that Bellatrix was behind it all. Of course she was. That demented cow was always stirring up trouble. With wand in hand, Snape stalked the forest searching for her. They had duel to finish, after all, and he intended to be the winner.

Oddly enough, the trees seemed to part and let him through; he wished to find Bellatrix and had simply found his way as if he had willed it. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially now that she had her back turned to him. Bella was absolutely transfixed on something in the lake which he could not see from his position.

What was more surprising is that miss Granger was there, standing some ten meters away from with her wand aimed at her. Curious. Even more curious that raw power started to gather around her wand; a halo of green energy started to flow through the young witch as she... cried? What on Earth was going on here?

Or a better question yet: did it matter?

Hermione Granger was indeed a traitor. Was she going to empower Bellatrix with whatever magics were causing this? Had that always been the plan? Regardless, he couldn't allow it. Bellatrix would die today; he would end the threat forever. And to that end, he had to kill miss Granger before she could empower her.

It was then that Snape caught a glimpse of whatever was in the lake and it made him hiss in disgust before he quickly looked away. Immediately, he remembered miss Granger's words; her impassioned plea to believe her nonsensical story about some sort of cosmic horror threatening the very fabric of reality itself. Preposterous, of course.

Or was it?

What he was seeing all around him certainly fit the description of a reality going mad. Magic had gone haywire, time itself had been turned upside down. And, honestly, the Lake wasn't even supposed to be bordering the Forbidden Forest at all!

One question was first and foremost on Snape's mind: What if Miss Granger's story was true? Could he take the risk to plunge the world into never-ending madness just so he could sate his desire to kill Bellatrix?

He thought back of all what his life had been over the past five years. As commander of the Phoenix Alliance's armies, he remembered the sacrifices he had made of himself and others, all for the sake of stopping Bellatrix. Had it been worth hit? Had it been necessary? He found it ironic that now of all times, he was filled with doubt. He realized that he had been afraid; of Muggles, of loss and, most of all, of change. Living in fear of being discovered for years under Voldemort... fear could become a comfort. It made him become like the fanatics he had once despised.

A headache of the likes he had never felt exploded through his skull. He clutched his forehead and hissed. He knew he had a decision to make; every fiber of his being screamed at him to kill miss Granger and stop the ritual.

If miss Granger was right, he'd be dooming the world. If she was wrong, letting her live would mean handing Bellatrix her victory.

What a choice.

Still clutching his head, his final act of defiance was to let his wand clatter to the ground. He would not risk dooming the world to save it.

Severus Snape would be a fanatic no longer.

* * *

**Maw of madness**

Hermione frantically recited the remainder of the spell as she felt raw power gathering at the tip of her wand. Luna hadn't exaggerated; the magic she was 'playing' with was immensely powerful. She just hoped to god that this was going to work.

Trailed at Bellatrix, Hermione closed her eyes continued the complicated movements. It felt... easier than it had the first three tries. More and more power gathered around her, rushing around her like a maelstrom. It moved around her, through her. The sheer amount of power channeling through her was overwhelming. Her legs buckled as she muscles ached from the strain. Her brain felt like it was going to explode in her skull.

Hermione caught one final glimpse of her Bella before a solid beam of sickly green light shot from the hole in the lake to Hermione. The energy was bent towards Hermione's wand and shot out towards Bellatrix. For a moment, it felt as if the raw power was tearing through Hermione's flesh. The young witch closed her eyes and steeled against the increasing agony.

She felt magic herself assaulting her. She heard baleful voices tearing through her soul, a cacophony of distorted curses speaking through the hiss of an old radio. Claws tore into her flesh as dozens of creatures assaulted her. Was this real? Was this a figment? Her of mind was turning against her as she continued her spell, but she felt herself faltering.

' _You can do it, Hermione'_.

"L... Luna?" Hermione whispered. Luna's voice drowned out the cacophony, gave her focus to ignore the pain. She opened herself and found herself the epicenter of a maelstrom of magic swirling around her; it felt as if she was channeling all the magic in the universe through her.

For a moment, she knew she was not alone. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a jovial wizard in a roman toga smiling warmly at her. An arabic wizard with a slightly mad look in his eyes gave her a wink before laying his translucent hand on hers. Channeling the power became remarkably easier as more and wizards and witches whom had dedicated their lives to researching the Dread Progenitor joined to help Hermione focus. Tears sprang in her eyes when the last hand was placed on hers; Luna Lovegood smiled warmly at her as she added her focus to the mix.

Perhaps these were figments of her shattered mind. Or perhaps the spirits were really there. It didn't matter either way. The hope they gave her was very real. A last word, a last swing of her wand, and the spell was executed flawlessly.

Just as quickly as it had started, it ended. She saw Bellatrix levitating in the air and all the magical energy she'd been channeling centered on a pinprick inside her chest. There was a brief explosion as the core of Hermione's wand burned out. She let out a grunt as she flew backwards and landed on her backside.

Silence.

Utter silence.

The first thing she could hear was her own heartbeat. Her own breath. Then... the rustling of leaves.

When she opened her eyes, the world was once again how it was supposed to be. It was a bright and sunny first morning of May. Sitting at the edge of the still drained lake, Hermione concluded that the world was still spinning as it was supposed to be. Birds tweeted cheerfully while the light of the sun warmed her skin.

It was over. It was finally over and she was still alive. Two miracles in one day.

"Hermione!" sounded Harry and Ron as they came running for her. They boys were quickly at her side, but Hermione ignored them. Her eyes were fixed on Bellatrix, who sat at the edge of the lake on her knees while hugging herself and shivering. The young witch looked around and found a torn robe near her ruined wand; it would have to do.

The young witch took the robe and slowly approached Bellatrix. Carefully, she placed the torn robe around her shoulders, hoping it would comfort her. She sat down next to her, and gently touched her shoulder.

Others joined them; Douglas, ever the soldier, came in with wand raised and cigar lit. From the other direction came a woman Hermione didn't recognize, clutching her ribs as if several had been broken. The dragon had made it too; he sported a few vicious wounds as he landed nearby to see how his friends were doing. But Hermione only had eyes for one person.

"Bella?" Hermione whispered softly as the dark witch stared endlessly in the distance in front of her, looking paler than usual while her wet hair matted against her skin. She looked terrible; covered in wounds, bruises and blood. "Bella, I'm here for you."

_'Please be alright. Please be yourself'_ Hermione pleaded with herself as Bellatrix slowly started to snap out of her trance, looking more than a little bit confused. However, confusion was quickly replaced by sheer joy.

"Little dove!" Bellatrix exclaimed, her voice full of love, and flew into Hermione's arms. The young witch closed her eyes and enjoyed Bellatrix's closeness as her lover let out a few sobs. "I knew you couldn't be dead. I knew it!"

"W-what?" Hermione blinked. "Who told you I was dead?"

"Snivellus!" Bellatrix hissed as, for the first time, she took note of her arch-enemy. "You're a liar, as expected! I should have known better!"

Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Snape standing there. His expression was unreadable for a moment, but then he turned to the woman next to him. "Miss Graves," he spoke carefully. "Signal our... unconditional surrender."

"Commander?" spoke the woman. "But..."

"You saw what happened!" Snape snapped back. "We all did. Bellatrix has earned her victory!"

"Ah!" Douglas grinned. "Sounds good to me. Dark Empress, shall I round them all up and put them to the wand?"

Hermione offered Bellatrix a stricken look. She knew her dark lover was often unpredictable and quick to anger, but surely she wouldn't just have thousands of people executed on a whim, would she? She couldn't. She wouldn't!

"Douglas. Contact Antonin," said Bellatrix as she leaned against Hermione. "Tell him to... cease all hostilities. There will be no reprisals. We've been under the boot-heel of that monster for far too long. It's time... time to heal our shattered world."

Words of wisdom from Bellatrix Black. Hermione approved; perhaps Bellatrix could be the benevolent empress the wizarding world needed after all.

"You're hurt," Hermione whispered as she saw the trio of deep gashes in her dark lover's cheeks. Bits of torn flesh hung from the wound and Hermione was certain she could see bone. She brought a rag to her cheek and attempted to stem the tide of blood.

"Oh, that reminds me," Ron spoke nervously as he held out his wand. "Lumos."

A simple spell, certainly, but as the tip of Ron's wand still shone brightly, she was relieved that magic was still working as it had before.

"Wait. Where's Luna?" Harry asked.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to speak the words. She could only shake her head briefly.

"Shit," Harry swore loudly while Ron bowed his head low.

"We'll honor our fallen," Bellatrix whispered. "Luna included. She was... unique."

"Bella?" Hermione asked. "How do you feel now that... you've..."

"Become a living prison for that thing? I'd love to see the look on Its face when It realizes It's been bound... if It even has a face, that is," Bellatrix finished with a chuckle. "I can almost feel it, you know. It's... I think It's asleep. Dreaming of Its freedom."

"Let's hope it doesn't wake up ever again," muttered Ron.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," Hermione said, unwilling to loosen her embrace.

Bellatrix smiled at her, reaching up to wipe a lock of brown hair from her cheek. "Don't be. You did what you had to do, Hermione. Let's... Let's go home," smiled Bellatrix.

"Let's," replied Hermione with tears in her eyes.

Though Hermione was usually embarrassed by public affection, she was so far beyond caring at this moment that it wasn't even funny. Bella's lips were so tempting, especially when the dark witch make her intent clear by closing her eyes and tilting her head slightly. Their lips met, their tongues touched and the two lovers kissed as hungrily as both of them could muster.

"So, uhm," Harry blushed slightly. "You just, uhm... right there in front of us with your knees the mud and everything..."

Snape let out a grunt. "Utterly shameless."

While Douglas laughed heartily and Dragon looked on with curiosity, Ron simply showed that goofy smile of his. "Hot," he drawled.


	33. To Hell And Back

**May 1st 2005 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

It was hard to believe that it had already been a year since that desperate day at Hogwarts. And as years went, it had certainly been a tumultuous one. The effects of Ouroboros' attempted escape had been felt all around the world. Questions begged for answers as the news of Bellatrix' actions at Hogwarts and knowledge of the Dread Progenitor which had then been bound to her had spread like wildfire.

Her cult of personality had expanded significantly as a result, to the point that some people even saw her as a wizarding messiah of a sort. There were people who believed that the dark witch had now effectively become the source of all magic. Bellatrix handled this adoration with all the humility a scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black could muster.

Which was to say, exactly none.

These days, Hermione considered it her job to keep her Bella's feet planted firmly onto the ground. This was easier said that done, considering that her own role in the defeat of the Dread Progenitor had given her some idolatry as well. It was more than a little disconcerting, especially since more than a few mystery cults surrounding the both of them had started to show up on the radar.

Things had moved very fast after their return to St. Petersburg last year. Bellatrix still had her unnaturally strong charisma and was more popular than than ever. The Walpurgis Union had expanded significantly as a result; the Phoenix Alliance had been dissolved and most of its member states were now part of the Union. Aside from a few hold-outs who remained neutral, Bellatrix ruled over most of the wizarding world. Keeping all these arguing voices in line could be hard work, but it was a good feeling to work towards a hopeful future again. Still, it had taken some time to adjust to her new role as Queen-consort to the Dark Empress.

Though Hermione lived at Buyan palace with Bellatrix for the most part, she divided her time between her parents' house and this wonderful little hideaway in Japan whenever she had a few spare moments.

The young witch merrily lazed about in the futon, but was in a rather amorous mood. Next to her, equally lazy, was Bellatrix. Her Bella had seemingly suffered no adverse effects from having a cosmic horror bound to her. Ouroboros, the Dread Progenitor, or whatever Walpurgis scholars were calling it these days, now held against the light and exposed, had fallen silent. Luna would have enjoyed knowing she and her mother had been vindicated, had she lived to see this day.

They hadn't come out of it unscathed, however. The struggle had left the both of them with scars. Bellatrix had never been able to get rid of the deep gashes in her left cheek. The wounds were cursed by the darkest of magics; it had been a feat to even close them properly to prevent her from bleeding to death. As vain as she was, Bellatrix often did her best to cover it up with illusionary magics, make-up or both. Dark magics were not easily thwarted, however, as the scars eventually started showing through. Hermione was always quick to remind Bellatrix that it would be very shallow of her to love her less because of a little scarring. Especially since she had scars of her own. Hermione's scars, however, were not as visible as Bellatrix's, but certainly not less severe.

Hermione let out a sigh and reached over to the low cupboard next to the futon. A small pharmacy was located inside. ' _Crazy pills'_ , Hermione lamented as she took out a tray of plastic pill bottles. ' _So many crazy pills'_. Unlike Bellatrix, the opposite was true for Hermione; one 'touched' by a cosmic horror did not come out of the ordeal untainted. For her bravery, there had been a dire price to pay. Her mind had been ravaged by merely gazing upon Ouroboros, leading to frequent nightmares, night terrors, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, anxiety attacks and, most embarrassing of all, the occasional acute violent psychosis. It had effectively ended her career as a diplomat overnight.

The wizarding world didn't have much to offer to deal with mental disorders, but thankfully the Muggle world had plenty of medication on tap which helped her deal with the worst of the effects. She downed a cocktail of pills, her daily dosage, and followed it up with a glass of cold water.

She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Even with all that medication, she still had nightmares, could still see shadows moving in the corner of her eyes and could still hear disembodied voices whenever she was alone. Hermione's mind might have been 'tainted' by the Dread Progenitor's sheer impossibility and she'd likely be on medication for the rest of her life, but that was still better than the alternative. And she supposed she had been sort of lucky; she could have easily ended up a drooling, gibbering madwoman with a destroyed mind who had to be confined to an asylum. Instead, she was with the love of her life and had enough of her sanity intact to function.

Worth it.

And now she and Bella were here, away from the vagaries of Imperial rulership, in this wonderful quiet place. Hermione was in the mood to celebrate. The young witch shifted closer to where her beloved lay on her side and gently reached over her to rake her nails over the pale smooth skin of her belly to indicate her desire to make love.

"Aren't your parents coming over in less than an hour?" Bellatrix asked with a sleepy voice. She couldn't see her face, but she could _hear_ the smirk.

"That's never stopped you before," Hermione purred while trailing her lips over her lover's shoulder, before burying her cheek into her dark curls. That shampoo she had been using smelled vaguely of oranges... just lovely. Hermione raised her hand to cup and slowly massage a breast, letting Bellatrix know she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

"Dirty little witch," Bellatrix let out a throaty chuckle while rolling on her back, allowing her young lover to utterly ravish her. Determined to show her exactly how dirty she could be, Hermione let her lips roam over Bellatrix's flesh, her neck, her breasts, her belly. She crushed her body to hers, breasts against breasts, belly against belly, while kissing her hungrily. Tongues fought for dominance just as Hermione's nimble fingers found her target. Oh, she so enjoyed making Bellatrix quiver.

Better yet, after Bellatrix had recovered from her earth-shattering climax, she wickedly flipped Hermione on her back and returned the given pleasure two-fold. Hermione yelled out in ecstasy, grabbing hold of Bellatrix's hair with both hands as tongue and fingers brought little death closer and closer.

As Bellatrix and Hermione lay panting in each other's arms, Bellatrix let out a brief chuckle.

"What?" Hermione smiled.

"Remember when your parents walked in on us?" Bellatrix laughed.

That made Hermione blush and groan. "Oh, god, don't remind me," muttered Hermione. "I was so mortified. And poor Ophelia... she was so confused."

"It's their own fault for walking in unannounced," Bellatrix chuckled and mimicked her mother's voice. "' _You see, Ophelia. Hermione was bitten by a snake, and Bellatrix was just sucking the poison out of the wound_.' I have to admit that was quick thinking, even for a Muggle."

"It would have been better to tell her the truth," said Hermione. "Poor Ophelia was so worried. In either case, I don't want a repeat. We'd better get out of bed and in our clothes."

"Aw," pouted a disappointed Bellatrix. "I am Empress. By royal decree, I have decided that neither of us will have to wear clothes ever again."

"No."

"Oh, come on. _Royal_ decree from your _Empress!"_ Bellatrix pressed.

"Still no," said Hermione. "Deal with it."

As Hermione and Bellatrix were getting dressed, the young witch had some more time to reflect.

After what happened, professor Snape had thought it better for him to disappear from the wizarding world for a time. Bellatrix, however, would hear nothing of it. In fact, she surprised friend and foe by naming him Minister of the Interior on her small council. Another surprise was that Snape had actually accepted, citing that ' _someone had to make sure that you won't run the wizarding world completely into the ground'._

"What are you thinking about?" asked Bellatrix.

"Snape," replied Hermione while buttoning her trousers.

"Snape?!" Bellatrix crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. "We've just had earth-shattering sex and the first thing you think about is Snape?! What's a poor woman to think, little dove?"

Hermione calmly strolled over to Bellatrix and tapped her on the cheek with the flat of her palm. Not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to show that she was not in the mood for any talk about the rivalry still existing between her and Snape. "Hush," Hermione demanded.

Ah, yes, the infernal rivalry. Frequent arguments were had between them, often resulting in Bellatrix shrieking in his face. The dark witch shouted through the halls of the palace that she would have him executed at least once a week; currently, boiling in oil was a favorite choice. Nothing ever came of it, of course, and Snape was far from impressed by her antics. They continued their conflict, in a sense, and Hermione could only conclude that neither of them would have it any other way.

The wizarding world finally knew peace and was on the path of healing. There was a still a long road ahead, but they had been given the time to walk it at their own pace. As for reunification with the Muggle world, that was still very much part of Walpurgis politics, but they would play that game on the long term for now.

On a personal level, Luna's final act of sending Bellatrix's letters to her sisters had had an effect. Bella's relationship, at least, Narcissa had greatly improved. The package of letters had certainly helped; when Bella had found out that Luna had been intercepting her correspondence, well, she hadn't been happy to say the least, but had come to understand it over time. However, her relationship with Andromeda was something else completely.

In a few weeks from now, the Black sisters would finally meet again after what had been decades of separation. Bella was both looking forward and dreading that day at the same time. Hermione quite understood; they both of definitely shared a deep-seated fear of rejection, after all. She knew there was probably going to be a lot of tension and pain in the meeting, especially between Bellatrix and Andromeda. But Hermione would be there for her.

A sound came from the fireplace.

"Your parents are here," said Bellatrix. "Maybe if we're really quiet they'll think we've buggered off and leave us be so we can spend a lot more time together on the futon."

"Don't you dare!" Hermione hissed.

"Ahah!" said Bellatrix. "Then why are you whispering, hm?"

"I..."

"Bella, Hermione," sounded Emma Granger from the other side of the door. "Time to get out of bed. Being ruler of an globe-spanning empire is no excuse to lazy about in bed all day. Honestly, it's almost noon!"

* * *

**May 1st 2005 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

The moment that Hermione's parents arrived, her father had quickly set up the barbecue. They would be spending the day together as a family. Jack had brought all sorts of delicious foods and set up near the lakeside a bit away from the house where there was a wooden pier. Hermione had donned her bathing suit and had taken her little sister to the lake. Ophelia, wearing her little waterwings, was happily swimming around in the lake. The water itself was cold, but pleasant.

Though the UK was once again a safe place for the Grangers, her parents had elected to remain living in Finland, not wanting to uproot their lives for a third time. Honestly, they were happy in their new home.

" _Of all the irresponsible things to do..."_ sounded the voice of Snape from a small hand-mirror Bellatrix was holding. " _Need I remind you that you are shirking your duties?! The situation in the Caucasus requires your immediate attention! If the local yeti population revolts..."_

"Oh, yeti are revolting, alright," Bellatrix retorted with a smirk.

" _This is no laughing matter!"_ Snape replied. _"While you and miss Granger are away..."_

"That's Her Majesty Queen-consort Hermione Jean Black-Granger to you, Severus!" Bellatrix spoke harshly, but in a tone which belied slight humor. Hearing her full name and title still made Hermione cringe a little, though.

" _There's just no talking to you, is there? You..."_

Snape was cut short as the mirror landed in the water with a splash. As it sank to the bottom, Snape could still be heard ranting for a time. "Oopsie," Bellatrix chuckled as she sat down on the pier.

"Well, that's one way to end a call," sounded Jack Granger. "The barbecue will take a bit to warm up. I have this new mix of herbs to try out for the steaks. I bet you won't even get steaks this good at that palace of yours."

"I'll take that bet," said Bellatrix as she sat on the pier with her feet hanging in the water. Hermione smiled as she swam with her little sister; her family had sort of adopted Bellatrix and, against all expectations, her dark lover truly liked that.

"Challenge accepted," said Jack as he shot a wary look at the roof of Hermione's house. Perching there was someone whom had also very much become a member of the family. Still having no name, but answering to 'Dragon', their draconic friend had craned his head over the side of the roof and had taken quite an interest in the slabs of meat her father had brought with him.

"Is that safe?" Jack asked.

"Oh, come now," said her mother, Emma Granger. "We've known Dragon for so long. I'm sure it's fine."

"It's not that," said Jack. "It's just that he's gotten a bit bigger and I'm worried that he might crash through the loft."

"Not to worry, Jack," said Bellatrix. "Dragons are deceptively light. Hollow bones, you see?"

Jack grabbed the largest of the raw steaks and threw it up in the air where Dragon deftly caught it in his maw. He craned his neck up and tenderized the meat with his teeth before letting it slide down his throat. Now quite happy, Dragon let out a brief grunt.

"Ah, there's my first satisfied customer," Jack smiled.

"Hermione, Ophelia!" Emma called after them. "Don't go too far out. Stay close to the shore."

"Come on," Ophelia called over to Bellatrix. "Come swim, biggest sis!"

' _Biggest sis_ ', Hermione chuckled at the nickname Ophelia had given to Bellatrix ever since now almost six months ago, she and Bellatrix had their wedding. At first she found the idea of getting married rather unnecessary; they were plenty in love, after all, a wedding seemed superfluous. But she couldn't really say no to a lavish royal fairy-tale state wedding with thousands of guests, cheering people, uniformed honor guards, all her friends and family there and a cake that was bigger than herself. She'd honestly felt like a princess, and though Bellatrix was a little bit insulted that Hermione wanted to keep her own name, she was glad to be married to her. Though she still had to get used to her title of queen-consort, several people at the court were already poking the both of them that it might be time to produce an heir. Still, Hermione thought herself too young for children and Bellatrix didn't seem to be in any hurry. They had all the time in the world to think about heirs.

"Come swim!" Ophelia demanded again.

"Yes, Bella," Hermione grinned. "Come swim! The water's fine."

Bellatrix shrugged. "No thanks."

Ophelia didn't miss a beat; the plucky girl started to make chicken noises in Bellatrix's general direction. "Cheep, cheep cheep cheep. Cheeeeeeep."

The dark witch made a face while haughtily crossing her arms. "I refuse to be goaded by a six-year old."

"Come on, you can use the exercise," tried Hermione.

This caused a frown. Bellatrix's expression darkened considerably. Oh, she could be so predictable at times. "What are you suggesting?" Bellatrix hissed. "Are you saying I've gained weight?"

Hermione grinned. "I'm merely suggesting all those royal banquets might have been taking their toll, your highness."

Shock. Anger. Narrowed eyes. "Oh," she hissed. "You'll _regret_ that!" Without saying another word, she transfigured dress into a bathing suit and rushed off the pier, diving in head first and disappearing underneath the surface of the lake.

Hermione half-heartedly tried to escape but knew she had no chance. She felt something pass right under her with alarming speed before the dark witch emerged from the water and grabbed her by the shoulders with webbed hands. Judging from the iridescent scales and fins her lower half now sported, Bellatrix had transfigured her body to catch her.

Bellatrix wound an arm around her waist and roughly yanked her hair to wrench her head back, exposing her neck. It hurt, but only a bit... Bellatrix, the wonderous woman, knew exactly what Hermione liked.

"You have no idea how incredibly sexy you look as a mermaid," Hermione husked.

"Flattery won't save you from my wrath!" Bellatrix hissed. "Now. How to punish you for your insolence, hm? My, my, you are a vicious little slandering vixen." Her voice was low and dangerous voice, but there was a playful twinkle in her eyes.

"Forgive me," Hermione replied, pretending to be terrified. "Please, mighty Empress, I didn't mean it."

Hermione shuddered when she felt Bellatrix's lips roam over her neck, kissing and gently biting. "It's too late for that now," growled Bellatrix. "You're going to have to be punished severely."

"Please, oh great and powerful Empress!" Hermione closed her eyes as Bellatrix yanked on her hair and nipped at her jawline. "I am but a lowly mudblood who doesn't know any better."

By this time, Ophelia had reached them and had circled around them. "You two are weird," she announced before splashing them both with water. "I know you're not going to hurt her, Bella. You love Hermione."

"Ugh," Bellatrix groaned while Hermione giggled. "Stop ruining the immersion! Merlin, why are all the Granger women so vexing?"

* * *

**May 1st 2005 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

After getting out of the lake, Hermione decided a brief shower was in order before the food would be served. Thankfully, this traditional Japanese house came pre-installed with full modern day plumbing. After she stepped out of the shower, she put on a robe and started to rub the steam off her bathroom mirror so she could do her hair.

She got the fright of her life when she found that it wasn't her reflection which had been looking back at her.

In the mirror was a massive reptilian biped with a broad face, a wide mouth with rows of blunt teeth, leathery turtle-like skin and a massive red plate of bone covering most of the top of the head. A large hump could be seen behind the head of the huge muscular creature.

The nightmares she had learned to live with, but she hadn't had any hallucinations for months due to her medication. Usually, the hallucinations were only brief and were gone after a blink, but this one... it just kept staring right at her. She was certain she had taken _all_ her pills, though.

Remembering what her therapist had told her, Hermione closed her eyes. "You're not there. You're not real. You're not there. You're not real. When I open my eyes, you will be gone. You... WILL... be gone," Hermione droned her familiar mantra before she opened her eyes.

It was still there.

Hermione was about to repeat the mantra, when she could hear a familiar voice. "Oh, so sorry. I forgot to shift back to my old form. Let's try this again. Hello, Hermione."

"Luna?!" Hermione frozen when she was suddenly confronted with the friend she had thought lost a year ago. Though she very much looked like the girl she had known there was something different about her. As she stared back at her from the other side of the mirror, she seemed older, wiser and somewhat more severe.

"Oh, I should be more recognizable now," Luna replied.

Hermione shook her head. "Just another hallucination," she sighed, when she suddenly let out a cry and found her thumb to be aching and bleeding. She held up her bleeding thumb to the mirror, where Luna offered her an apologetic smile. "D-did you just... do that?"

"Just a pinprick... of a sort."

To say that Hermione was flabbergasted was an understatement. "Are... are you a ghost?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Luna replied. "I am very much alive. Or... well, that sort of depends on how you define life, I suppose."

"God, Luna. I thought I saw you die. When that creature..."

"I did!" Luna announced cheerfully before biting her lip. "Or didn't. It's hard to say. When the creature pulled me through the veil between dimensions, I was... changed... separated from my body, but not dead nor a ghost. I saw my old shell being torn apart and devoured... quite disconcerting. At the time. But it's quite alright. I don't need my body anymore."

"But..." Hermione whispered. "If your body was devoured and you claim not to be dead. Then... what are you?"

"It's better to say that I was... unanchored. For immeasurable time, I was lost in time and space. I moved through countless dimensions, drifted through oceans of solitude, seen beauty beyond imagining and horrors that defy reason. I've witnessed the births and deaths of stars. I have visited places that no human has seen nor ever will."

"But..." Hermione frowned. "How could this be? You've only been gone a year."

The made Luna frown. "Only a year? Hm, I often forget how linear humans think. Linear thinking is something I've learned to shed. You see, for you it has been a year since we've last spoken. For me it is immeasurably longer. Or not. It could be a second, it could be a millennium. I have learned to move back and forth through time with the ease with which someone walks down a street. Though I do no longer exist in a physical sense, I have learned that I am able to influence events by whispering in the right ear at the right time.

"My god," Hermione realized. "The researchers. The cult. The clues. It was you all along. _You_ were the one who left my name all over history."

"It was interesting," Luna smiled. "Leaving a breadcrumb trail for my younger self to follow. Getting people to realize what was living right underneath their feet."

"Luna," Hermione crossed her arms. "If you could do this, why weren't you a little bit clearer?"

Luna thought for a moment. "I could have tried to contact myself directly, but I wonder if I would have believed myself. Besides, I wasn't really very good at it when I started. I... made mistakes. There were wizards who saw my whispers as something divine, which formed the cult that almost killed you. And then there was Pompeii. I'm sorry to say that that was completely avoidable in retrospect. But it is how it is and it worked out for the best."

"Wait," Hermione said. "If you can see through time, I have questions."

"That would be telling," said Luna. "Let me put it this way. Your future is a series of endless possibilities. If I give away too much detail, I might change your outcome. What I can tell you is that there'll be plenty of adventures for you still and it wouldn't be fair to tip you off beforehand. But I can answer the question you are yearning to ask; the Dread Progenitor will never bother you or the wizarding world ever again."

"How do you know this?" Hermione asked. "Can you explain?"

"I'll try to explain as best I can. The Dread Progenitor has been bound to Bellatrix now; when Bellatrix passes on, Ouroboros will die with her. Period," said Luna.

"But won't that mean the end of magic?"

"No," Luna spoke resolutely. "Elder Gods like It transcend the limits of time and space. It is now bound to not only a specific location but also a specific period in time. Because this period in time exists or has existed, it will always exist. And thus magic will always exist as well."

Hermione tried to wrap her mind around that concept but it made no logical sense to her. "I don't understand."

"Being trapped by causality as you are, I don't think you're supposed to," said Luna. "The Dread Progenitor is a creature with no beginning nor an end, yet It was born and It will die. This sounds like a paradox to a limited mind such as yours, but, take it from me, it makes perfect sense."

Hermione was a little insulted by that, but let it pass. "Wait, if we keep using magic, won't it break free again?"

"No," said Luna. "It was bound in a flawed way by other Elder Gods, but now that It's been bound by Its own power, It will never break free of Its bonds. The reason magic continues to exist is because Bellatrix is now Its conduit. Even after her life ends, It will continue to exist because she existed in the past, like I said."

"Trying to figure that out is making my head hurt," Hermione said.

"Then don't," Luna spoke softly. "Simply accept."

"Another question," replied Hermione. "If time doesn't exist for It, how could It not have prevented this fate?"

"Causality has no meaning for It, so time in the sense of a sequence of events hasn't either. A nanosecond lasts just as long as an eon and all possible outcomes of every event are equally valid. Seeing all outcomes at once becomes a game of probability and there are endless variations."

Hermione nodded, putting her finger to her lips. "So… you're saying Ouroboros couldn't see the forest through the trees. And that's why It never saw it coming?"

"That would be a good analogy," said Luna. "It wasn't used to thinking in linear terms, so It didn't really understand how time works. It's hard to consider what the consequences could be if you never had to consider having to deal with consequences at all. In truth, it's a way of thinking I've come to appreciate."

"And Bella?" Hermione asked.

Luna smiled warmly. "You and her are going to have a long and happy life together."

"A long and happy life," smiled Hermione as she let the words sink in.

"I have to praise you for binding the Dread Progenitor to Bella," said Luna. "It also explains why all prophecies saw you as either the doom or the savior of the wizarding world. It was your choice in the end; either to continue trying to bind the Dread Progenitor to yourself and fail. Or have the courage to bind It to Bellatrix without knowing the consequences. Strike one for free will."

Hermione smiled at that, before she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she spoke softly, a voice full of regret.

"Don't grieve for me, Hermione," said Luna. "Even though I can no longer be a true part of the world I was born in, I am living an incredible existence that has been beyond even my own wildest imagination. I have walked and will walk among peoples of many universes as one of their own. The shape I had taken earlier was that of a member of a race which destroyed their own world multiple times over and were driven to the brink of extinction by a sterility-plague. But through all that adversity, they stand strong and proud; they deserve to exist, Hermione."

"What will you do now?" Hermione ask.

Luna's face faded somewhat in the mirror. "I want to grow. I want to see more. I want to travel through time and space and explore whatever I can find. I was to push the boundaries of what is possible. If you like it, I will visit you sometimes and tell you of what I have learned."

"I think I'd like that," Hermione replied with sincerity.

"I will endeavor to learn more about the Dread Progenitor. Learn how It pushed the boundaries of reality and time," said Luna.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Luna asked, cocking her head sideways in the mirror.

Hermione was about to respond when the door to the bathroom was thrown open. A rather amusing looking Bellatrix, once again wearing her dress, stepped inside. "My, my, my, little dove," Bellatrix teased. "I've heard you sing in the shower before, but talking to the mirror? Tsk, tsk, such a vain little thing you are."

"I was just..." Hermione turned to the mirror and found simply her own reflection looking back at her. Luna was gone. Had she even been here? Had she been another hallucination which told her what she wanted to hear? Perhaps she'd never know.

"Never mind," Hermione replied.

"Your father asked me to fetch you," said Bellatrix. "The food is ready to be served in a moment. Let's see if Jack is as good a chef as he boasts to be."

"He is," Hermione smiled as she took Bellatrix by the hand and embraced her.

"Hm," said Bellatrix as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist. "I'm not saying no to a hug, but it's a rather random one."

"I love you," Hermione whispered. The witch whom had once tortured her and threatened to kill her was now the woman she loved most in this world. Fate must have a good sense of irony.

"I love you too," Bellatrix replied, warmth easy to see in her gaze. "I do say, not killing you has been one of my better decisions."

"You'll get no argument from me," Hermione laughed and kissed her lover on the cheek before they both left the bathroom to join her family.

* * *

**May 1st 2005 – Hokkaido, Japan – Hermione's home at the edge of lake Mashou**

Hermione woke up with a start, drawing a sharp breath as if it was the first of the day. She found herself lying on her side of a broad deck-chair near the pier with her legs pulled up in a fetal position. An arm was wrapped around her waist while she felt fingers stroking her hair.

The last thing she remembered was digging into the dessert and then… nothing. Judging from how low the sun was in the sky, she'd been out of it for at least two hours. This could only mean one thing.

"What did I do this time?" Hermione spoke with heavy heart, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Bellatrix stopped stroking and remained silent for a while.

"Please," Hermione pressed. "Tell me."

"At the end of dinner, you suddenly became convinced that there was a worm digging around in your head and eating your brain. You were yelling, screaming, clawing at yourself and eventually attempted to use a meat-tenderizer to crack your skull open to get to the worm. I stunned you before you had the chance to do so," spoke Bellatrix with a hushed tone.

"God," Hermione closed her eyes. It wasn't merely that Hermione didn't want to be alone anymore, but due to incidents like this she simply _couldn't_ be left alone. The psychosis could come quickly and without warning... she could harm herself and others. "Did… I scare Ophelia?"

"No," replied Bellatrix. "She was more scared and worried _for_ you than scared _of_ you."

Hermione shifted her head slightly, so see Dragon and Ophelia at the end of the deck. Dragon lay curled up with wings folded down as he slept, his chest rising and falling while his nostrils produced jets of steam with every breath. Ophelia lay snuggled up against the side of Dragon's head, propped up on top of a scaled foreleg.

Seeing her little sister sleeping so peacefully caused her to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, I…" Hermione started to say.

"Ssssshh," Bellatrix shushed her. "Nobody here blames you."

"I'm damaged," Hermione lamented.

"Quiet!" said Bellatrix. "I won't allow you to pity yourself. It _will_ get better. I promise you that."

Lies. Sweet lies. She'd be suffering from mental breakdowns for the rest of her life. Still, had she forgotten a pill? "I should check my medication."

"Forgot that Muggle shite," said Bellatrix. That made Hermione smile; she fondly remembered the trip back to St. Petersburg last year. Her lover had never let her out of her sight. While the airships were limping home, Bella was always at her side, most of the time with arms clamped firmly around her. It made her feel safe and loved after what she had endured. She'd needed it then and she needed it now.

"Never expected you to be the saner one in our relationship," Hermione quipped as she turned around in the embrace to face Bellatrix. In sight came a pouty Bellatrix with a mess of curly hair and clad in a bathing suit. Not exactly a state in which the Empress of the wizarding world was often seen.

"Well, thank you very much," Bellatrix replied with a slight growl on her voice.

"You know what I mean," said Hermione.

"I speak from experience," replied Bellatrix while laying a hand on Hermione's cheek. "Trust me, it _will_ get better."

"As long as I have you," Hermione smiled before brushing lips with Bellatrix. The embrace tightened, the kiss deepened. The young witch closed her eyes and fell into the passion; they'd earned their happy ending.

In fact, she was completely unaware others were around her as her father came walking out of the house. "Feeling better, puppet?" he asked. Hermione broke the kiss and looked up into her father's instantly apologetic face. "Oh, uh, I didn't know... you were. Let me just go back inside and pretend this never happened."

Hermione and Bellatrix shared a look and a chuckle. As Hermione held on to her dark witch, she couldn't help but think back to her conversation with Luna. Was it even real? She should check if she hadn't forgotten a pill or two. Then again, Hermione knew a psychotic episode could happen regardless of her medication, so...

Honestly, she didn't want to think too much about it. Instead, she thought back to what Luna had said; She and Bellatrix would have a long and happy life together.

"What are you thinking about?" Bellatrix asked.

"You," Hermione smiled.

"Ah, my favorite topic of discussion," Bellatrix smirked.

Then and there, Hermione wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those smirking lips.


	34. Epilogue

**May 1st 2135 – St. Petersburg, Russia – Walpurgis Empire Museum of History**

Today was quite an adventure for young Gwen. After all, it was the first time she had been allowed to travel through the portkey all by herself to visit not only another country, but also the museum of Imperial History. There should be plenty of sources here for her school project.

After paying for her ticket, she was let in by the porter to roam the museum; housed in a massive building, the many exhibits told the history of the Walpurgis Empire and the Black Dynasty. It was still early so there weren't all that many people around yet, but since the museum was a bit of a must for any wizarding tourist in St. Petersburg, Gwen knew she wouldn't have the place to herself for much longer.

She was already impressed when she saw the hull of one of the Walpurgis Empire's first airships, the Windrider, suspended from the ceiling in the entrance hall. It was the original ship; after having been salvaged from the battlefield over a hundred years ago, the Windrider had never returned to active duty. Gwen would have loved to walk on the deck to stand where the crew had stood, but sadly the exhibit was closed for maintenance.

The museum highlighted the history of the Empire and since the history of the Empire was deeply connected to Empress Bellatrix, there was a whole wing devoted to her. From her personal history, to her politics and her life at court, it covered most aspects of her life. The wing held a replica of the Empress' beautiful office and the small council chamber at Buyan palace. On display were various dresses, paintings, capes and scepters. In the center of the large rectangular room stood a marble statue of the Empress; twelve foot tall and in a heroic pose, Empress Bellatrix raised the flag of victory in one hand while holding her wand in the other.

Gwen was wondering just where to start when she was drawn to a lavish crown on display underneath a glass case. The little girl stopped to read the plaque. " _Royal crown worn by Empress Bellatrix I at her crowning and every ceremony of state until her abdication in favor of her eldest daughter Empress Cassiopeia I in 2051 on her 100_ _th_ _birthday. Worn by Empress Cassiopeia I until her abdication in 2099. On loan to the museum by decree of our current Empress Hermione II."_ Gwen gasped at the sight of the crown... though it was technically not allowed to take a photograph, there was nobody around so she quickly snapped a picture.

Gwen stopped at a large tapestry depicting the Dynasty of Black, starting from Empress Bellatrix and Queen-consort Hermione at the top and branching off into children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Empress Bellatrix had proclaimed that succession in the Walpurgis Empire would follow the female line, declaring that there had been 'quite enough' male lords in the past.

She passed photographs, listened to recorded speeches and saw that an exhibit on the Muggle-Wizard Reunification would soon be open to the public. She made a mental note to visit the current exhibit following the life and works of famed inventor Ophelia Granger later today.

' _Right, Gwennie'_ , she told herself and took out her notebook. ' _Stop standing here looking like a slack-jawed yokel. Let's get some work done'._

It was only then that Gwen noticed she was not alone and saw an old woman sitting on a bench. The woman's face was mostly covered by her hood and long silver hair could be seen escaping from underneath the fabric. She looked frail, at least one-hundred and thirty years old. Her skin was wrinkled, but the lines around her lips told of a person who smiled often and gladly. The woman seemed to gaze upon the statue lovingly and had not noticed that her wand had rolled off the bench.

"Excuse me," Gwen started. "Ma'am?"

No response. In fact, the old woman didn't even grant her so much as one segment of one eye. She remained staring at the statue. Gwen frowned a bit. Perhaps the old woman was deaf?

In the meantime, Gwen would just leave the wand lie on the ground. She gently picked it up and held it out to her. "Excuse me, did you drop your wand?" she asked softly.

The old woman turned her head slightly. "Oh, child, I'm so sorry," spoke the woman with an accent she couldn't quite place. "Sometimes I see things which aren't there. But you are very real."

' _What an odd thing to say_ ', Gwen thought to herself as the old woman reached out with bony fingers to take it. "Thank you, young lady. I'm always losing that thing."

"I saw it, so..." Gwen pursed her lips. "Just wanted to help."

"You're a nice girl," spoke the old woman. "What's your name?"

"Gwendolyn Storvacker, ma'am," Gwen kept her back straight as she answered. "But everybody just calls me Gwennie. I'm from Boston."

"Such a polite young lady. Are you enjoying the museum?"

"Yes, it's great! I'm working on a school report about Empress Bellatrix."

"And studious too," smiled the old woman. "Good girl."

Though her parents had taught her to be wary of strangers, this old lady seemed really nice and quite harmless. Gwen popped onto the bench next to her, taking off her little backpack and putting it in front of her feet.

"My big sister is named after her," said Gwen.

The nice old lady smiled. "There's a lot of little girls named Bellatrix running around. Tell me, how old are you, Gwennie?"

"Nine, ma'am."

"Nine," the old lady closed her eyes. "Bella passed away ten years ago. It's hard to believe there are youngsters like you who hadn't been born yet when she passed on. Tell me, what do you think of this museum?"

Gwen smiled. "It's amazing! I've been told so many stories about Empress Bellatrix. At school and by my parents. About all the incredible things she did for all us."

"She would have loved this, you know?" the old woman chuckled. "A museum in her honor, singing her praises. Glorifying her name. People loving her."

"You talk as if you knew her," said Gwen. "Did you?"

"You could say that," the old woman replied with a slight chuckle.

In Gwen's mind, there could only be one logical conclusion. "Did you work at the palace?! Did you meet her?!" Oh, this could be great. Maybe the old lady would like to answer some questions for her school project. Something nobody else could know.

"I raised her children," spoke the old woman.

"You were a nanny?"

There was just a pleasant and warm smile.

"What was she like?" asked Gwen eagerly.

The old woman looked at the large marble statue and chuckled briefly. "She was a woman. Just a woman. A person with many good sides and just as many flaws. You won't learn much about her flaws here, though. The museum glosses over the things she did while under Voldemort's command, for example. I don't think that's fair. Not to history and not to Bellatrix."

Gwen frowned. "Who's Voldemort?"

The old woman grinned briefly and patted her on the head with a bony hand. "True immortality is never being forgotten. And it looks like Voldemort isn't even getting that."

The old woman once again turned to the statue and gazed at it with a smile. "This museum will tell you everything about her bravery, her cunning, her zeal, her vision and her love for her family and the wizarding world. All true, of course. But here, you won't learn about her arrogance, her temper-tantrums, her pride, her pettiness, her fears and her doubts. Both her good qualities and her faults – and Merlin knows she had many – are what made her her. And are what made me love her so much."

The old woman reached for her cane. "Help me get up, hm?"

Gwen did so. With the help of her cane, the old woman sauntered over to a large mural depicting the most important event in Walpurgis history; the binding of the Dread Progenitor. Gwen knew the story well; Ouroboros and spymaster Lovegood had their own wings devoted to them and she had seen the Dead Grimoire on display there. The mural was an artist rendition of that desperate time. Empress Bellatrix bravely stared into the abyss, while later Queen-consort Hermione Granger stood by to perform the binding spell. Together they saved the wizarding world; every living being everywhere owed their lives to them.

"There we have Bella. Looking dapper and brave as usual. Snape in the shadows," The old woman said before she tapped the painted figure of Hermione Granger with her fingertip. "And that would be me. I think the artist got my good side."

Gwen gasped loudly. She'd thought the old woman had looked familiar. Immediately, the young girl worried as she tried find a place to bow. "Y-you're... the queen-consort! Y-your majesty! I..."

"Sush, don't even think about bowing to me. I've had quite enough of that for one lifetime. As for titles, it's Hermione, just Hermione," the old woman cracked a warm smile. "These days, I'm no queen of anything. I am just a doting old nan to my many great-grandchildren."

"But... why... why do you come here?" Gwen asked. "If you live at the palace..."

Hermione nodded. "Fair question. I like to be alone and surrounded by things that were hers. Here, I can hear the sound of her voice and relive the many memories of the Empire we've built together. It might sound silly, but it's easier here than at the palace. The museum staff is kind enough to open up early for me so I can be alone with my memories."

"Do you miss her a lot?"

"Bella was older than me. I accepted that she would leave me behind one day. She passed on surrounded by family and friends," Hermione spoke in a pained voice. "It's true, I miss her terribly. We've been together for over a century. We've had and raised children together. But someone I used to call a friend once told me we'd be together again."

"A former friend?"

"Yes. She helped us defeat the Dread Progenitor. I talked to her sometimes, when she came to visit. But.. she changed. She became colder and more distant," said Hermione. "I think... I think she's outgrown humanity and doesn't really understand us anymore. I fear for what she might become if she keeps... evolving."

Gwen scratched her head. "But... that doesn't make any sense."

Hermione offered a warm smile. "Don't worry your little head about it."

Once again, Hermione turned to the statue. "I wish, though, people would remember her for who she truly was. Not this idolized image of her. I want them to remember the good and the bad and to make up their own minds. Bella was... a complicated person. This museum, a lovely tribute though it is, doesn't do her justice."

Thoughts of her school report came bubbling to the surface. Oh, her classmates would be _so_ jealous if they knew whom she'd been talking to. "Can you tell me something about her that nobody else knows?"

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of wrinkled lips. "She could belch the killing curse!"

"No way!"

"She was really drunk at the time, though, and we managed to stop her in time or our poor waiter would have been dead. One simply didn't tell Bellatrix that she's had enough to drink," Hermione laughed.

Gwen gave her a rather skeptical look. "That's... not a real story, is it?"

Hermione's mouth formed into a playful grin. "Allow an old woman her eccentricities, dear child. I'll tell you something nobody will know. You see, Bellatrix was raised to believe that pure-bloods are the only ones worthy of wielding magic. Even though her beliefs changed much over time, it always remained a bit of a hang-up for her. Though her prejudices towards others had faded, she became increasingly nervous and conflicted when our first child was on the way. Tantrums, sleepless nights... So, I felt the need to sit her down and warn her that she needed to sort herself out."

"What happened?" asked Gwen.

Hermione smiled wistfully, eyes trailing to the statue again. "She got really quiet for what seemed to be an eternity, then she looked me in the eyes and told me she'd always love our children, no matter the blood flowing through their veins. The way she said it made me cry... It showed just how much she had changed."

"Whoa. Can you tell me more stories?" Gwennie smiled. "How did you meet? How did you defeat Ouroboros, the Dread Progenitor? Was the war cool?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "War is never 'cool'," she spoke with a tone which made Gwen feel slightly admonished. "But I'll tell you about the bravest thing I've ever seen her do. I'm sure you're expecting it to be a story of a grand battle or a great victory. But, no, it was far more personal than that. The bravest and most difficult thing I've ever seen my Bella do, was to try to explain to a five year old boy why he had to grow up without his parents."

Honestly, Gwen had no idea how to respond to that. When she remained silent, Hermione patted her on the shoulder.

"Bella's relationship with her sister... both of the them... remained strained for a long time," said Hermione. "But, as they say, time is an adequate healer."

"Wow," said Gwen. "You were there. When the wizarding civil war was happening. I can't imagine our world being so broken."

"Oh, it was," Hermione shook her head. "Those were dark times. Hm, how about we swap some tales over sundaes at the museum cafeteria, hm? I'll tell you my story and then you tell me some of yours."

"Yeah!"

Hermione took the girl by the hand and slowly walked forward with the help of her cane. "Let's start at the beginning, hm? When I was very young, I was working as a diplomat for the Phoenix Alliance. By this time, the Walpurgis Empire was still called the Walpurgis Union. I had spent three years of my life trying to get both sides to come together to talk. Little did I know that when I came to Geneva, it would be the start of one hell of an adventure..."

_Gwen listened eagerly as Hermione started to weave her tale. Oh, yes, her classmates would be oh so jealous._


	35. Extras

A 'chapter' like this something I don't normally do, but some people asked to see the timeline of the five-year war which takes place in between chapter 1 and 2. Rather than just post it, I added some background stuff and clarifications. Note that none of this is necessary to follow the story proper, but these are just meant to be (hopefully) fun little extras. Naturally, if you're reading this before the rest of the story story, I humbly suggest to read it first because this section does contain a lot of spoiler material.

**Ouroboros, the Dread Progenitor**

For those of you who are well-versed in Lovecraftian lore, the Elder God It could be best compared with is Azatoth; a blind being of pure chaos whose very existence unravels the ordered universe. A being for which time, shape and form has no meaning, yet has been trapped into a linear existence because others of Its kind thought It so dangerous It needed to be locked away. Like any prisoner, It wants to be free of Its cage and, unlike Azatoth, It is lucid enough to figure out a way how.

The idea was born when thinking about the origin of magic, hinted at jokingly in another story of mine, Murder Most Horrid. Magic as described by JK Rowling, is a subversion of the natural laws that govern the universe, which also explains why magic and electricity seem to counteract each other. In this particular story magic is revealed to be the power of Ouroboros, though use of it is limited by the imagination of the wizards that wield it. In that way, magic developed its own set of rules. Basically, Ouroboros giving magic to wizards is comparable to the story of Prometheus; fire stolen from the gods and given to mankind. Unlike Prometheus, Ouroboros is far from benevolent and uses the wizards and witches like tools; the more of Its power they use, the more the cracks in Its prison widen.

There was never meant to be direct interaction between Hermione and Ouroboros. Basically, Hermione is so far beneath It that It won't deign to even acknowledge her existence. It is still meant to be the main antagonist of the story, however, so It needed to have a tangible presence during the story. Going with the analogy of the anthill which Luna uses multiple times in the story, If humanity is the ant-hill, Ouroboros is the gardener with the hose.

Aside from the presence of a Cosmic Horror, there are plenty of other references to Lovecraftian lore. Obed Marsh being Luna's maternal grandfather (and Luna understandably being a bit defensive about that), the Dead Grimoire being a reference to the Necronomicon and the prophecy within it being written by the 'Mad Arab' Abdul Alhazred. Lossiemouth itself was a reference to Innsmouth, the cursed fishing village in 'Shadows over Innsmouth'. It was surprisingly difficult to find an existing town which fit the needs of the story; there are a total of 18 towns in the UK which end in –mouth, most of which are either too big or too small. Lossiemouth, fit the bill and the local lighthouse near the Lovegood's fictional vacation house does look rather lovely if you check the images of it on google. Lastly, it's implied that the influence of the rift is on the verge of transforming Hermione into an intelligent yet formless Shoggoth-like being.

As for the name, of course, Ouroboros is not Its real name, but rather one given to It to give It an identity the wizards could make sense of. In truth, Ouroboros couldn't care less what a bunch of chattering apes name It. Also, it's symbolic for cyclical movements; a beginning and an end at the same time. If you've been paying attention, you'll notice there's both a starting point and an end for a certain character in the story. In a way, Ouroboros gave Itself Its start by 'giving' magic to humanity. It's not coincidence that the others of its kind chose Earth as Its prison.

**Bellatix and her relationship to Ouroboros**

There is no direct one. Their relationship is more like that between a scientist and an object of study. Bellatrix is meant to make war; how she chooses to do this is beyond Its care as long as she does it. The creature prods her along when Bellatrix steps out of line, and Bellatrix's headaches increase significantly when she is persuaded by Hermione to make peace. At the one hand, Ouroboros is an uncaring and distant being, on the other hand It needed to lower itself to deal with us primitives to achieve its goals. That's a fine line to walk. It'll leave it up to the readers to decide if I've succeeded or not.

In order for Bella to achieve her goal, she is granted more power an any other witch and a skill which makes her unnaturally charismatic. It is through these powers that Bellatrix was able to create her Empire in so short a time and it is why her people love her so much despite her past. What Ouroboros never considered is that this worked both days; Bella has led a loveless existence, but had a need to be loved regardless. Because he people loved her, she had come to love her people in return; it is why she has become more open to change and more accepting of muggle-borns. And why she found true love with Hermione. When Ouroboros was bound, Bellatrix kept the powers she was given.

Snape was the opposite force to Bellatrix, meant to make war with Bellatrix. Unlike Bellatrix, he was made to be more intimidating, more devious and above everything else, more of a fanatic. Both had been brought back from the dead to act as meatpuppets, but both of them ended up having enough spirit to defy Ouroboros when It most needed the both of them to simply obey.

Originally, it was to be revealed that the Dread Progenitor had brought back a third person from the dead; Nymphadora Tonks. She would have been revealed to be the Tsunguska cult's leader. But that storyline got scrapped because it would make an already convoluted story more complex. Besides, Ouroboros has no need for worshippers nor a need to exert any form of control over them.

**Dragon**

Dragon is a symbol for the freedom Bellatrix so desperately seeks but only truly gains at the very end of the story. Dragon, who has no name, is someone Bellatrix approaches in order to win his confidence. When the reader first meets Dragon, she has already mostly succeeded in winning his confidence after three years of trying. Dragon plays a role in Hermione and Bellatrix becoming a couple, as well as the end resolution in the story. As much as Bellatrix is learning to interact with Dragon, she is learning what it means to have freedom. An important part of that is learning that she makes the rules now, instead of someone else making rules for her to mindlessly follow like in her earlier life.

One of the biggest challenges in this story is making Bellatrix more accepting of Muggle-borns from the get-go. It's a bit of a double-edged sword; on the one hand, Bellatrix being a muggle-born hater and overcoming this is very much cliche in Bellamione stories, but on the other hand it is a point which has to be addressed for any Bellamione story to be believable. What I've tried to do in Dark Corners is to make it so that Bellatrix has already at least partially walked the road to Muggle-born acceptance. This way, the point is still addressed while it plays a lesser role in the story.

**Luna Lovegood**

Luna's role in the story is important enough to get her second billing. Of all the characters, Luna Lovegood was the only one to not only discover the existence of Ouroboros but to realize Its threat to the very existence of reality. Luna is presented as someone who definitely has her own agenda; defecting to the Walpurgis Union was a means to an end, even though she was never actually part of the Phoenix Alliance's war efforts. Nor did this defection bring her closer to her ultimate goal, but she is given resources she would never have gotten if she had remained in the UK. Make no mistake, though; she actually likes being a spymaster for Bellatrix and it is a position she has _earned_ as the Walpurgis Union is pretty much a meritocracy. The enigmatic Luna is, perhaps, the nicest spymaster in history as her methods chosen are generally non-lethal and non-violent. Despite all that, she's arguably the most manipulative character in the story, considering she had Bellatrix's ear and convinced her to attempt to lure Hermione to their side. Luna was needed to convince the hero of the story, who is rather skeptical in nature, that the very magic they use is their own worst enemy. Luna's implied ultimate fate, however, fits the general darker tone of the story.

**The Phoenix Alliance & The Walpurgis Union**

Roughly an allusion between the East and the West, though not divided along the same lines to avoid real-world comparisons. When we open the story after the prologue, these two territories have been fighting a bitterly divided ideological battle for five years with at its core Slytherin ideals. Both are traditionalist but in a different way, with Bellatrix wanting to go back to ancient times when wizards could live among Muggles without hiding and Snape wanting to maintain international secrecy and strict segregation from Muggles.

Both hold to the Slytherin ideal of securing a place in the world, yet go about it in very different ways. Hermione's notion that both sides can peacefully coexist is naive in this regard, because both ideologies are pretty much mutually exclusive; it's rather hard to maintain wizarding secrecy for one side when other is gleefully announcing their existence to Muggle governments, after all.

Both are sides are meant to have their good and bad aspects; there's meant to be no clear good or bad guy here, which was a bit of a challenge to depict as Hermione spends most of her time with the Walpurgis Union for obvious reasons. Both Snape and Ron were windows into the policies and realities of the Phoenix's Alliance's side; Snape showing the manipulative side and Ron showing the human effect these manipulations have. The Phoenix Alliance is going to extraordinary lengths to maintain secrecy which becomes more and more extreme over time. The Walpurgis Union is at its core a dictatorship and is openly influencing Muggle governments, while the Phoenix Alliance has a dap hand in influencing their own governments. Dissidents are, not surprisingly, unwelcome in both camps.

The name of both territories were chosen from wizarding history. The Phoenix Alliance is obviously based upon the Order of the Phoenix while the Walpurgis Union is based on the 'Knights of Walpurgis' which is the original name for Voldemort's followers before he came up with the Death Eaters. It made sense to me for Bellatrix to go back to the very beginning and give it her own twist. In a sense, in my story, Bella has accomplished far more than Voldemort ever had. As it should be. :)

**Buyan island**

Buyan is a magical island centered in slavic mythology in the Baltic Sea which is said to appear and disappear at random and features in several slavic myths. Over the years it has features in stories, films and even operas. Most interesting for Potter fans, it's also where the majority of the infamous Russian 'cultural response'/rip-off of the Harry Potter series by name the Tanya Grotter takes place. Tanya Grotter is banned from translation in most countries, but I was lucky (?) enough to own a copy of the dutch translation before it was pulled off the shelves for legal reasons. Though scholars think that Buyan Island is based on the existing island of Bornholm, for the sake of this story I've placed it in the Gulf of Finland, some miles off the coast of St. Petersburg. It contains Buyan Palace, which serves as Bellatrix's center of government and a large magical forest.

**Tunguska event**

The Tunguska event was a large impact explosion in 1908 near the Podkamennaya Tunguska River in the tundras of Siberia. The explosion was roughly comparable to a 15 megaton blast, about 1000 times the strength of the Hiroshima bomb and flattened about 80 million trees over an area of 2000 square kilometers. The meteor did not actually hit the Earth but shattered in the atmosphere. If it had hit, the blast would have been even more devastating.

The affected area was so remote that the first recorded expedition took place in 1921, though being the tumultuous period in Russian history that it was, it can be argued that the Russians had better things to do than go poking around Siberia. Over the years, there's been plenty of crazy theories on what exactly hit the Earth in 1908, especially since the lack of an impact crater puzzled researchers. It wouldn't be conclusively proven to be a meteorite impact until the 1960's when soil analysis revealed microscopic silicate spheres spread over the area with high nickel count. Another smoking gun was a high number of certain isotopes in the local peat bogs.

All in all, the Tunguska event shows just how fragile our Earth is. The Tunguska meteor was calculated to be barely 50 meters in diameter, which is tiny on a cosmic scale. Add in that according to probability, we roughly get one Tunguska-sized event every century; we're actually overdue an explosion. As such, it was a perfect real-life historical event which could be used to show off just the tiniest of fractions of Ouroboros' true power.

**Rusalka**

A creature from Slavic mythology, these water nymphs have many faces. They've been depicted as being able to change their appearance to match the taste of the man they're trying to seduce, so their appearance could be that of any type of woman. They are undead spirits born of young women who either committed suicide by drowning or were violently drowned against their will. These spirits are bound to the lake, river or waterway they were drowned in and lure people to their deaths. Though not always malevolent, the Rusalki in this story are based both on the slavic myth and a Japanese Manga called Mermaid Forests. In this manga, the titular mermaids are monsters in their true form. In my story, the Rusalki are not only very much malevolent flesh-eaters, they're also not very discriminating about gender. They hunt every creature which is attracted to them and, as such, play a major role in establishing that Hermione is attracted to women.

**Wizarding world in Japan**

J.K. Rowling has created a rich and varied world, but in many ways she limited herself to describing the wizarding world in western countries and even then we mostly only see the UK. Quidditch through the Ages gives some details of international wizardry, the wizarding world in other cultures is mostly free to explore.

When considering the wizarding world in Japan, I thought it would be fun and believable to have it be a shogunate. As such, the Japanese wizarding world is 'stuck' in the Edo period, having been passed over during the Meji restauration. That means that the wizarding world in Japan is very much a strictly regimented feudal system ruled by tradition and rules. I imagine it being one of the most pure-blood societies in the wizarding world which is proud of being the last remnant of the Edo period. At the same time, Japanese (Muggle) society is very open towards the supernatural. There are, in fact, official government-placed warning signs against mythological creatures in certain places. A very accepting Muggle society combines well with a very proud wizarding world and, as such, is a perfect candidate to join the Walpurgis Union. In a way, Japan is an example of what the Walpurgis Union should strive to be as it pursues symbiosis with the Muggle world.

Of course, there was recognizable parts. The Japanese Irori is a traditional Japanese firepit which you jump in for travel. I imagine it takes some practice to land on your feet when you're expelled on the other end, though.

**Airships**

Zeppelins are cool. Magical zeppelins are even cooler. The Walpurgis Union is meant to be depicted as being a bit more advanced and willing to use new ideas as opposed to the more traditional methods of the Phoenix Alliance... which is ironic, considering who is running the Walpurgis Union. Besides, they are steampunk as all hell and I love steampunk. The basic idea behind the need for airship the limit to the range of apparation and I doubt warring nations would allow portkey access. So how do you move a large number of troops over vast distances? A) you carry them with you on an airship and B) you use the airships to bring your own mobile portkeys to launch down to bring in the troops you couldn't fit in the hold.

The earlier generation of Walpurgis Airships are basically wooden sailing ship hulls underneath a balloon a la warships in the Warhammer or Dragonlance franchise. The later introduced Valkyrie dreadnought is a prototype (plagued/cursed by numerous setbacks) for a Hindenburg-style airship.

In the twenties of our Muggle world, the Zeppelin was to be the transport of the future. There were actually plans to have docking ports made at all New York skyscrapers and it was meant for there to be a courier and bus service between them. The Hindenburg disaster nixed that idea, showing the world that flying a gigantic balloon filled with a highly flammable gas might not be such a hot idea. Today, it somewhat of a lost technology.

As for the Walpurgis Airship balloons? They're not filled with Hydrogen but with enchanted air. You don't want to be basically flying what is essentially a big bomb into combat, after all.

**Chapter titles and references to songs**

As most of you probably have noticed by now, most of the chapter titles are actually titles of song. Sometimes I feel the song fits the mood of the particular chapter, sometimes I just like the title. Honestly, I'm not embarrassed to admit I like every one of the songs on this list:

1 Survivor - Burning Heart

2 Belinda Carlisle - Circle in the Sand

3 Deathstars - Virtue to Vice

4 The Cult - Rain

5 At Vance - Dragonchaser

6 Manowar - Heart of Steel

7 MorteMcAdaver - The Sightless Hero

8 Steve Winwood - Higher Love

9 Emily Browning - Sweet Dreams

10 V Factory - Love Struck

11 Iron Maiden - Can I play with Madness?

12 Iron Maiden - Wasted Years

13 Blind Guardian - Nightfall

14 Idina Menzel - Let It Go

15 Alannah Myles - Black Velvet

16 Toto - Africa

17 Deathstars - The Temple of the Insects

18 Led Zeppelin - Stairway to Heaven

19 Depeche mode - Enjoy the Silence

20 Rolling Stones - Miss You

21 Elton John - Japanese Hands

22 He Who (for legal reasons) Must Not Be Named - A Shoggoth on the Roof

23 David Hasselhoff - Looking for Freedom

24 Peter Gabriel - Big Time

25 Coldplay - Lovers in Japan

26 Puscifer - The Humbling River

27 Matt Monro - From Russia with Love

28 Simon & Garfunkel - The Sound of Silence

29 The Phantoms - Into the Darkness

30 Johnny Cash - (San Quentin,) I Hate Every Inch of You

31 NRG – Instruments of Destruction

32 Poets of the Fall/Old Gods of Asgard - Children of the Elder God

33 Sabaton – To Hell and Back

**Timeline of the War**

This is the reference time-line for happenings in the war which begun at the end of chapter 1 to the start of chapter 2. Sometimes events of this timeline are mentioned in the story, but this list was mostly for my own sense of continuity. Hopefully, it will give you some perspective on the developing conflict.

**1998**

  * May 1998 - Bellatrix Black flees Hogwarts.
  * May 1998 - Search for the remaining Death Eaters begins; UK organizes the manhunt.
  * July 1998 – The search goes poorly. Due to lack of leads and results, the UK recalls their aurors.
  * September 1998 - Bellatrix Black stages coup in Russia; takes control of wizarding Russia.
  * September 1998 - Estonia, Latvia and Finland swear fealty to Bellatrix; Walpurgis Union is formed with Bellatrix as its head as Dark Lady.
  * September 1998 – Sweden joins the Walpurgis Union.
  * September 1998 - Antonin Dolohov named Walpurgis Supreme commander of armed forces.
  * September 1998 – Restoration of Buyan Palace begins after Bellatrix Black claims the long abandoned Buyan island for herself.
  * September 1998 – Bellatrix Black delivers her infamous 'New Future For Wizardkind' speech, announcing her presence and intent to the world. She extends an open invitation to all wizarding nations to join her.
  * October 1998 - Ukraine falls to the Walpurgis Union.
  * October 1998 - Walpurgis Union makes incursions into Czech Rupublic, Slovakia and Poland.
  * October 1998 - Norway and Denmark join the Walpurgis Union.
  * October 1998 - Romania joins the Walpurgis Union.
  * October 1998 - First Walpurgis Union Airship, the WUA Courage, launches. More airships are swiftly ordered produced while the Courage is deployed to the front lines.
  * November 1998 - Walpurgis Union invades Bulgaria while Belarus joins by choice.
  * November 1998 - Greece joins the Walpurgis Union.
  * November 1998 - Walpurgis Union makes incursions into Germany from Denmark and Poland.
  * November 1998 - Remaining western European wizarding nations scramble to stem the tide of Bellatrix' advance. The Phoenix Alliance is formed, its armies under the supervision of the UK Ministries of Magic. Recruitment starts.
  * December 1998 - Ron Weasley enlists.
  * December 1998 - Phoenix Alliance suffers devastating defeats in Czech Republic, Slovakia and Germany. Different Ministries are each vying for control of the Alliance armies, hampering deployment.
  * December 1998 – Nurmengard is repurposed as a prison for Alliance soldiers taken as prisoners of war. On the direct order of Bellatrix Black, dementors are not to be employed as prison guards.
  * December 1998 – Twelve more airships launched and sent to the front lines. Production on the Walpurgis Airfleet continues unabated.



**1999**

  * January 1999 - Buyan Palace is fully restored and put to use as the center of government for the Walpurgis Union. Augustus Rookwood is named chancellor.
  * January 1999 - Walpurgis Union takes Czech Republic and Slovakia.
  * January 1999 - Poland about to fall to the Walpurgis Union as Warshau is taken.
  * January 1999 - Severus Snape is named Commander of the Phoenix Alliance's armed forces with full executive powers.
  * February 1999 - Phoenix Alliance ousts Walpurgis Union from Germany and Poland; Poland joins the Phoenix Alliance.
  * February 1999 - Hungary joins the Phoenix Alliance.
  * March 1999 - Lines are drawn. Phoenix Alliance and Walpurgis Union armies meet at the Wizarding Front. Devastating warfare breaks out along the Polish, Slovakian, Czech, Austrian and Hungarian borders from the Baltic to the Adriatic Seas for the duration of the entire war.
  * April 1999 – On orders of Bellatrix Black, students from Phoenix Alliance member states attending Durmstrang are expelled and deported. In response, Hogwarts and Beauxbatons expel and deport students from the Walpurgis Union territories.
  * May 1999 - Walpurgis Union is hit with a string of assassinations among high-level supporters.
  * June 1999 - Kingsley Shacklebolt removed from office after a corruption scandal; Severus Snape's involvement suspected but never proven.
  * June 1999 - Harry Potter joins Phoenix Alliance Intelligence Service (PAIS).
  * July 1999 - Shacklebolt's former assistant Nobby Knight named provisional Minister of Magic in the UK. Democratic elections are suspended until after the war.
  * August 1999 - Hermione Granger accepts position as diplomat for the Phoenix Alliance.
  * September 1999 – United States of America rebuffs Phoenix Alliance; signs non-aggression pact with Walpurgis Union and remains neutral.
  * October 1999 - Egypt joins the Walpurgis Union; the conflict spreads into Africa as both sides start actively courting African nations.
  * October 1999 – WUA Windrider launches, bringing the number of ships in the fleet to sixty. The Windrider, specifically designed for intelligence gathering and speed, is deployed to scout the Northsea territories.
  * December 1999 - Nest of abandoned Nundu's discovered along the Nile delta. Experts are brought in to raise the cubs as living weapons for use by the Walpurgis Union.
  * December 1999 - Harry Potter named special agent for PAIS after a 6 month training course.



**2000**

  * January 2000 - Ron Weasley deployed in Sudan.
  * March 2000 - Phoenix Alliance defeats Walpurgis Union in Sudan and Libya. Both nations join the Alliance.
  * April 2000 - Luna Lovegood defects to the Walpurgis Union.
  * April 2000 - Kenya joins the Walpurgis Union; support from the ancient city of Agartha causes several nations of Africa to join the Walpurgis Union.
  * May 2000 - In light of Luna Lovegood's defection, Xenophilius Lovegood comes under investigation; The Quibbler's publishing license is permanently revoked.
  * May 2000 - Israel signs a non-aggression pact with both the Walpurgis Union and the Phoenix Alliance; remains a neutral nation.
  * June 2000 - Several top secret files leak, causing the Phoenix Alliance nations severe embarrassment as diplomatic tensions between member states rise.
  * June 2000 - Luna Lovegood promoted to spymaster and installed as head of intelligence by direct orders from Dark Lady Bellatrix.
  * July 2000 - Hermione Granger promoted to senior diplomat after resolving diplomatic tensions between the UK and France over leaked secrets.
  * August 2000 – Bellatrix Black signs a law recognizing Muggle-borns living in the Walpurgis Union as full citizens with full rights.
  * August 2000 - Bellatrix Black exiles several former Death Eaters. Alliance agents quickly arrest them for interrogation and trial.
  * October 2000 - Treaty of Vienna: establishes rules of conduct regarding prisoners of war, condemnation of torture by both sides, preservation of historical and culturally significant wizarding sites in warzones and establishment of several neutral zones along the central European front; Hermione Granger credited as key negotiator.
  * October 2000 - Bellatrix Black's claim on the contents of the Lestrange and Black family vaults at the UK branch of Gringotts is rejected.
  * November 2000 - Hermione Granger and her team are given diplomatic clearance to enter Walpurgis Union territory for the sake of negotiations.
  * November 2000 - New Zealand joins the Walpurgis Union. Conflict spreads to Oceania.
  * December 2000 - Australia joins the Phoenix Alliance; tensions between Australia and New Zealand rises, but no open warfare breaks out.
  * December 2000 - Indonesia signs a non-aggression pact with Walpurgis Union; remains a neutral nation.
  * December 2000 - Walpurgis Union seizes and nationalizes the local branches of Gringotts within their member states by direct order of Bellatrix Black; protests from the rest of the wizarding world ignored as First Bank of Walpurgis is established. Acute financial crisis spreads through the entirety of the wizarding world as Gringotts' liquid assets are effectively halved.



**2001**

  * January 2001 - Treaty of Berlin; a second front in Europe along the German-Denmark border is prevented from breaking out due to concessions negotiated by Hermione Granger.
  * February 2001 - Luna Lovegood awarded Star of Walpurgis medal for exposing deeply rooted Phoenix Alliance spy rings operating in several Walpurgis Union member states; Bellatrix Black gives Lovegood mandate to operate on her own accord without supervision.
  * March 2001 - Development begins on the WUA Valkyrie, a new prototype warship.
  * April 2001 - Hermione Granger makes tentative contact with several high-level Walpurgis Union diplomats.
  * May 2001 - Walpurgis Union suffers devastating defeats in Congo and Namibia.
  * May 2001 - Severus Snape instigates Atrocity of Windhoek, causing the Walpurgis Union severe international embarrassment.
  * May 2001 - Atrocity of Windhoek; a Walpurgis Union general orders the massacre of the civilian wizarding population of Windhoek while secretly under the influence of the Imperius curse cast upon him by Alliance agents.
  * June 2001 - Bellatrix Black issues formal and public apology to the international community for the Atrocity of Windhoek and has the general responsible publicly executed by killing curse.
  * July 2001 - Juvenile nundu's deployed along the African fronts, leading to a string of victories in Africa.
  * July 2001 - Fighting in Africa comes to a stalemate.
  * August 2001 - Treaty of Riga; A treaty barring the use of nundu's in the much more populated European territories is established by Hermione Granger. In return for this concession, the Phoenix Alliance recognizes the First Bank of Walpurgis as a legitimate financial institution.
  * September 2001 – Thirty US wizards lose their lives when Muggle New York is attacked by Islamic terrorists. Both Walpurgis Union and Phoenix Alliance offer their condolences to the MACUSA.
  * October 2001 – Muggle US president George W. Bush Jr. orders invasion of Afghanistan. Hermione Granger hurriedly negotiates a joint venture between the Walpurgis Union and Phoenix Alliance to evacuate its small wizarding population before the attack takes place. Ron Weasley is assigned to the Alliance team.
  * October 2001 – Fighting breaks out between Alliance and Walpurgis forces during the evacuation. Though no civilians get caught in the middle, tensions remain high. Ron Weasley receives an official reprimand for refusing orders from a superior officer.
  * November 2001 - A large group of patriotic US wizards break the Statute of International Wizarding Secrecy by offering their magical might to the Muggle CIA to help track down and defeat Muggle Islamic terrorists; the Phoenix Alliances condemns their actions as being a risk to wizardkind while the Walpurgis Union applauds them and offers the US wizards free travel through its territories.
  * December 2001 - Walpurgis Union steps up its efforts to contact and recruit Muggle persons of interest in government, business and entertainment.
  * December 2001 – Severus Snape endorses the Youth Association for the Responsible Use of Magic (YARUM); critics claim YARUM is simply a tool to circumvent the laws against underage recruitment for the armed forces.
  * December 2001 - Construction on the WUA Valkryrie is delayed after parts of the build explode in the hangar. Investigation by Luna Lovegood rules out sabotage.



**2002**

  * January 2002 - WUA Courage lost with all hands over the Baltic Sea after being attacked by Alliance broombadiers during transit to Norway. Bellatrix Black condemns the attack as cowardly and calls for a week-long Union-wide period of mourning.
  * February 2002 – Hermione Granger travels to Gothenburg, Sweden to oversee the extradition of an ex-death eater; Mayor Krumben is assassinated by an agent placed in her entourage by Severus Snape.
  * February 2002 - Quidditch World Cup is cancelled indefinitely in light of the war.
  * February 2002 - Bellatrix Black establishes Walpurgis Quidditch Cup as an annual event. Each member state is invited to send a team to the first games hosted in Russia. Open invitation to compete is sent to neutral nations.
  * March 2002 - Walpurgis Quidditch Cup opens to great financial and critical success. Neutral nations United States, Japan and India compete.
  * March 2002 – Hermione Granger travels to Tampere, Finland to inspect and assess the treatment of prisoners of war. She finds no violations of the Treaty of Vienna and rumored atrocities are proven false; Auror Seppo Koistinen is assassinated by an agent placed in her entourage by Severus Snape.
  * April 2002 - South Africa wins the first Walpurgis Quidditch Cup and is presented with the trophy by Bellatrix Black in Johannesburg.
  * May 2002 - Dementors are sent to attack civilian targets along the coast of Norway. Phoenix Alliance denies involvement, citing lack of control over dementors. Bellatrix orders retaliatory strikes on Alliance nations.
  * May 2002 - Luna Lovegood uncovers direct involvement of Phoenix Alliance in dementor attacks.
  * June 2002 - Evidence of Alliance involvement in dementor attacks is presented to the international community. Hermione Granger issues a formal apology on behalf of the Phoenix Alliance. Regardless, dementor attacks continue as the Phoenix Alliance will not cross the border into Norway to recover their charges.
  * July 2002 - Snape signs curfew laws to give the army more control over public life in Phoenix Alliance member states. Breaking the Statute of International Wizarding Secrecy carries harsher penalties. Snape urges further reform to protect wizarding secrecy.
  * September 2002 – Hermione Granger travels to Moscow, Russia to negotiate the lift of an embargo on certain rare potions on humanitarian grounds. Antonin Dolohov survives an assassination attempt by an agent placed in her entourage by Severus Snape.
  * September 2002 - A scathing report is released by the Salem's Instititute for Witches on the treatment of political dissidents in both the Phoenix Alliance and the Walpurgis Union. Severus Snape acknowledges the content of the report, citing a need to suppress civil unrest. Bellatrix Black rejects the report as rabble-rousing pseudo-intellectual drivel.
  * October 2002 - Walpurgis Union special forces secretly slander and remove a political rival of Muggle president Vladimir Putin as a favor. Bellatrix Black claims Putin 'sold his soul' to the Walpurgis Union as a result.
  * November 2002 – Hermione Granger travels to Cairo, Egypt to assure the Egyptian Ministry that any sites of cultural significance would not be targeted in any conflict; Head Mistress Claudia Hawass is assassinated by an agent placed in her entourage by Severus Snape.
  * November 2002 - Severus Snape spreads false rumors of deathcamps for Muggle-borns in Walpurgis Union territory to regain falling public support for the war effort.
  * November 2002 - Bellatrix Black galvanizes support from her people by exposing them to the lies the Alliance is spreading about the Walpurgis Union.
  * December 2002 – Ron Weasley promoted to the quick-response unit meant to deploy in hot zones all along the front lines.



**2003**

  * January 2003 – Severus Snape orders invasion on Cyprus. The island falls within two days.
  * February 2003 – Walpurgis Union mobilizes Greek Battle-mages. The situation is tense, but no war breaks out.
  * February 2003 – Renewed conflicts flare up along the European front. Bellatrix Black and Severus Snape both proclaim to want to keep on fighting until the bitter end.
  * March 2003 - Hermione Granger calls in all her diplomatic favors to set up a summit between Bellatrix Black and Severus Snape themselves in Geneva. Diplomats on both sides respond positively, citing the summit as a 'last, best hope for peace'.
  * March 2003 - Second Walpurgis Quidditch Cup is held in Johannesburg.
  * April 2003 - The Baltimore Bludgers, representing the United States, win the second Walpurgis Quidditch Games. They are presented the trophy by Bellatrix Black in Baltimore, having been invited as an honored guest by US President of Magic Eagle Kincaid. Tentative negotiations for Maryland to host the next games as part of a neutral nation are stonewalled by protests from the Phoenix Alliance.
  * May 2003 – Summit is scheduled to be hosted in Geneva, Switzerland. Hermione Granger is set to preside.



**The Ending**

At its core, this is a Lovecraftian themed story. And as the Lovecraft fans and/or Call of Cthulhu roleplayers must know: there's no way to 'win' a Lovecraftian story. The best you can hope for is to break even.

Thus, originally, I planned for the world to be destroyed. There would still have been a happy ending of a sort; Hermione and Bellatrix would live on as formless entities in the chaotic maelstrom, trapped together for all eternity. In the end, I decided against it as it would negate all what they have accomplished and all the character growth they went through. The original ending was made a lot darker and was repurposed as one of Hermione's nightmares in chapter 28.

Still, even if the current ending is a lot happier, there should be a price to pay. The personal cost to Hermione was dire; she will carry the severe mental scars of her encounters with the cosmic horror until the day she dies and will continue to suffer from a myriad of psychological disorders. It worked out as a better conclusion to Luna's storyline as well, in my opinion.

The epilogue is a reworking of the original plotbunny which kicked off this story: ' _An immortal Bellatrix is in a seedy space-bar telling her story to a bunch of aliens who don't quite believe her, but are willing to keep listening as long as she's paying for the drinks.'_ Yes, this was actually written and, no, it will never see the light of day. :) The epilogue of Gwen talking to an old woman at the Imperial Museum is basically an evolution of this idea. For a time, I wondered if I should have Bella or Hermione be the old woman, but eventually decided on Hermione since she's arguably the main protagonist of the story.

So that's it. I quite enjoying writing this story and am a bit proud of how it came together. I want to thank any readers who made it to the end and hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together.


End file.
